


Special Operations

by Valkyrien



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Agent Coulson Lives, Director Fury Is All Kinds Of Done With This Bullshit, Everyone Is Incompetent But Highly Dangerous, Loki Is A Genius But Not Overtly Evil, Loki Takes What He Wants But Gives Something Back, M/M, Steve Is A Career Soldier Not A Babysitter, Steve Rogers Is A Certified BAMF, War Is Not A Game And Neither Is The Protection Of Government Assets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkyrien/pseuds/Valkyrien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is a mildly traumatised career soldier between missions. When his superiors offer him a special protective detail in collaboration with S.H.I.E.L.D to safeguard a vulnerable combined threat and serious asset to both nation and government, he has no real reason to decline the opportunity to serve his country by acting as the last line of defence between it and a volatile youth whom everyone and their government-affiliated organisations wants to get their hands on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Force Protection

**Author's Note:**

> Watching NCIS one evening with a friend, a seed was planted, and this took root and grew from there.

 

 

 

   Steve Rogers is standing to attention before a panel of his superiors, as well as representatives from Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division or S.H.I.E.L.D., only two of whom are physically present, while the third is an ominous figure in black projected on a screen behind the conference table everyone else is standing behind.

 

 

   On this day, at 14:00 hours, Steve Rogers is in full uniform, 23 years old, in peak physical condition, and nervous as hell.

 

 

   He feels as though he’s on trial, but he knows that’s absurd.

 

 

   Apart from the fact that he’s meant to be dead, he’s done nothing wrong.

 

 

   Everything is as it should be. Situation normal; all fouled up.

 

 

   Here, just as in the field, the normalcy of this state and the existence of an endless array of highly relevant and pressing questions are not mutually exclusive.

 

 

   However, here, just as in the field, Steve Rogers holds out no real hope of any of these questions being answered to his satisfaction or indeed in any way that is useful to him.

 

 

   He tries just the same.

 

 

   “Sir, I don’t understand. I made a full recovery. Why am I being removed from active duty until further notice?”

 

 

   Steve directs his question at the face he feels most comfortable directing it to, which is fitting in this case as it is also his commanding officer and the person upon whose orders he finds himself here.

 

 

   “Captain, I don’t think you do understand,” Colonel Phillips says bluntly,

 

 

   “Though I don’t blame you. You have been specially requested by S.H.I.E.L.D as a potential candidate for a long-term cooperative mission that will be conducted entirely in the field under our collaborative supervision. This is a top priority mission, and there will be nothing inactive about it.”

 

 

   “If I may?” Agent Coulson – agent, not a soldier, not someone Steve knows or can quantify – steps forward smoothly. He is a remarkably mild and unobtrusive-looking individual. Those are usually the most dangerous. He is also holding two files, one of which he places on the table in front of Steve.

 

 

   “You can stand easy, Captain Rogers,” he says, eyes twinkling,

 

 

   “Go ahead,” he slides the file closer to Steve and prompts,

 

 

   “Take a look. It’s all in there.”

 

 

   Steve relaxes his posture enough to open the file. There’s not a whole lot in there considering ‘ _it’s_ ’ all supposed to be present and correct and ‘ _it_ ’ is beginning to sound like a big deal.

 

 

   “ _’The Steele Institute for Strategic Studies’_ ,” he reads, and Agent Coulson nods.

 

 

   “The Institute is an R&D government-sponsored and affiliated think-tank project. It’s a collection of the brightest young minds within our borders, and at this facility they are given the opportunities and resources to develop their skills in ways which benefit their nation,” Agent Coulson explains.

 

 

   “This won’t be a familiar concept to you, Captain. The Institute is based at a military location and all information on the subject is highly classified and released only to select personnel on a need-to-know basis. Hell, I didn’t know it existed until three hours ago,” Colonel Phillips elaborates, and Steve lets that sink in.

 

 

   “One of the individuals at the Institute will be your mission, should you feel up to the task of accepting it,” Agent Coulson states.

 

 

   “A child?” Steve asks, and after a swift glance at Colonel Phillips’ grimace appearing to confirm it he feels able to add,

 

 

   “You want me to babysit a child?”

 

 

   “Not a child, no,” Agent Coulson hastens to say, applying an almost soothing edge to his voice which quickly becomes hesitation as he continues with,

 

 

   “A... what you might call _young adult_. We require a general handler and protective detail for this individual. There have been five attempts at kidnapping in the last three months alone, and a handful of death threats.”

 

 

   “Why?” Steve asks, and Agent Coulson turns to regard the man projected on the screen behind him, who folds his hands together and stares straight into whatever camera is capturing his image with his one uncovered eye.

 

 

   “This individual has succeeded in assembling a program which can control and alter all communications and monitor any secure channels, as well as created blueprints to a device conceived as a power source that easily converts to a WMD. This thing is indecipherable to our best people, all they can tell us is that with the right engineering, it’s some scary shit. I don’t think I need to spell out for you how bad it would be if someone capable of engineering that fell into enemy hands,” he says, and Steve can appreciate how appropriate it is that this Director of S.H.I.E.L.D is named ‘Fury’. It almost sounds made-up – like a comic book character.

 

 

   “These attempts at kidnapping, the death threats – we can’t allow anything to happen to this individual. It’s not an option. We need someone to liaise between all the parties involved, while providing appropriate surveillance and on-the-ground support in a way that impacts this person’s life as... gently as possible,” Agent Coulson says carefully, and Steve has a vision of an eccentric kid in early adolescence with glasses and unruly hair soldering something that sparks and forgetting to eat.

 

 

   “What about the family?” he asks, and an odd twist appears briefly about Agent Coulson’s mouth before he replies,

 

 

   “The individual in question has been fully emancipated from their family for a number of years now and lives alone when not in residence at the Institute. This is an added factor in our concerns for the general safety of this person – there is virtually no private support network in place and the individual in question has a penchant for going off the grid while immersed in personal projects.”

 

 

   “So residence at the Institute isn’t permanent?” Steve asks, and Agent Coulson’s sanguinity is restored. Steve is beginning to suspect that this agent is one of those functional creatures of efficiency and fact who draw energy and personal relief from referring to evidence and that which is known and can be proven.

 

 

   Steve has always suspected that such people are farmed somewhere and fed a steady diet of forms and other paperwork until they reach maturity and can be set loose to maintain the infrastructures of corporations and governments everywhere.

 

 

   “No, residence at the Institute ranges from between two weeks to a month at a time in order to minimise the interference with the young peoples’ everyday lives and to allow them time away to recharge their creative batteries in an ordinary home setting. The younger they are, the longer they spend at home. The older they get, the more time away they often require for work on personal pursuits, as is the case here,” Agent Coulson explains clearly.

 

 

   “But you’d want me on hand round the clock,” Steve surmises, and Director Fury barks,

 

 

   “What we _want_ , Captain Rogers, is for you to stick to this kid so close not even cooties can get past you without having to undergo a full background check and getting a stamp of approval. Day and night, this kid’s safety and well-being will be your responsibility. You will vet any visitors, take out anyone who so much as sneezes out of tune within shooting distance of this eggheaded little freak show, and send in daily reports of what’s going down. Doesn’t matter where you go, doesn’t matter what you do, you need to be watching and reporting everything, and if the kid so much as chokes on a take-out noodle for a nanosecond I want a blow-by-blow on my desk within the hour so I can sign off on a raid on the restaurant the goddamn noodle came from, got it?”

 

 

   “If,” Agent Coulson interjects softly,

 

 

   “The individual in question approves you for this undertaking, you will be briefed in full as to your responsibilities, Captain. So far getting an approval for any of the agents we have attempted to assign to this task has been...”

 

 

   “A huge fuck-up,” Director Fury deadpans, and Agent Coulson nods, a touch of exasperation creeping into his expression.

 

 

   “Understand that you would be in constant contact with this person, Captain Rogers, unable to leave for any reason. There will be no one in place to relieve you of your duty should you feel the need to go elsewhere for personal business. This mission would require you to devote the entirety of your time to this task. This is not just surveillance, you need to establish a relationship of trust with your target and work round the clock to ensure that it is not compromised. The individual in question understands this and so has naturally been reluctant to approve anyone they deemed... incompatible,” Agent Coulson clarifies.

 

 

    Giving up his personal life to be the first, best, and only immediate line of defence between a child someone wants dead and his government and nation need alive and well would sound like a noble and worthwhile mission to Steve if it weren’t for the fact that he’d be sacrificing nothing at all since his personal life is virtually non-existent at this time.

 

 

   He has to wonder whether that’s a major reason he’s been chosen to potentially take this on.

 

 

   “So you want me to meet this kid before I make my decision?” Steve inquires, and Director Fury’s look turns irritable rather than angry and blunt.

 

 

   “We need you to sign off on a non-disclosure contract before you meet the little monster and we get to find out whether this is the match we’ve been looking for. It’s not going to be your decision,” he lays out, and Agent Coulson grimaces.

 

 

   “You will be given the edited file on this individual after you’ve consented to sign the non-disclosure forms and taken to the meet-up only if you choose to potentially accept the mission. Whether or not you take this any further from this point is your choice, Captain Rogers. If you don’t think this sounds like something you can do, then you can walk away right now, no harm done. If on the other hand you do want to take this on, signing the non-disclosure forms will be the first step towards finding out whether or not you’ve made the cut, so to speak. The final decision will lie with the person you are being asked to protect,” he elucidates.

 

 

   Again, Steve thinks of a kid with soldering burns on their fingers and a price on their head, and it seems fair to him that a disruption of this magnitude would have to be the final decision of the person whose entire life is going to have to expand to include a constant companion and guardian the likes of which they have been without for a long time.

 

 

   “I accept,” he says simply, strong and clear, and Agent Coulson smiles pleasantly.

 

 

   “This better be hundredth time’s the charm or we’re gonna have to just throw this motherfucker in high security isolation and wait it out,” Director Fury grumbles while Colonel Phillips’ frown deepens.

 

 

   “Captain Rogers, before you sign off on any damn thing, are you sure about this?” he asks Steve, and Steve only has to consider it for about three seconds.

 

 

   He’s trained for high-intensity combat situations that require immediate tactical analysis and response. On top of this, he’s a naturally very nurturing person who actively enjoys helping people out and taking care of others. This will combine both of those strengths with the kind of distraction Steve feels he really needs right now.

 

 

   “I am, Sir,” he replies calmly, and Colonel Phillips nods.

 

 

   “Then I know you’ll do right on this,” is all he says, while Agent Coulson slides the non-disclosure forms across the table to Steve along with the second file.

 

 

   “You can read that on the way,” he says with another smile.

 

 

 


	2. Critical Asset

 

 

 

 

   Agent Hill has been tasked with escorting Steve to the meet-up along with Agent Coulson, whom Steve learns is the main overseer of matters pertaining to this apparently difficult young individual.

 

 

   They’re flying there, and Steve belatedly realises that he’s essentially going to be presented to this kid – whose file he hasn’t even had two spare seconds to crack open and glance at – in full working uniform. He asks whether that isn’t going to be a potentially compromising detail, and Agent Coulson, who appears pleased that Steve agreed to take things this far in the first place, smiles and shakes his head.

 

 

   “Don’t worry, Captain. We’re taking you to the Institute – there are uniformed personnel there at all times, no one’s going to look at you twice. It’d be more conspicuous if we brought you in there in civilian get-up,” he says reassuringly, and Steve nods once to indicate he’s heard and understood him.

 

 

   “If you get the job, your orders will be effective immediately, so we’ll be bringing all your belongings out from base anyway, you’ll have everything you need,” Agent Hill comments.

 

 

   “Okay,” he replies, a little distracted as he finally opens the file and is perturbed to find that there is no picture attached.

 

 

   “No picture?” Agent Hill asks, glancing over, and then shrugs and says,

 

 

   “Well, we’re taking you straight there,” as if that negates the usefulness of any photo identification being attached to the file Steve was given.

 

 

   “Loki...” he reads aloud, though under his breath, and Agent Coulson utters a small, subdued chuckle and kindly corrects,

 

 

   “ _’Loki’_ – it’s Scandinavian in origin. Even I can’t pronounce the rest of it.”

 

 

   “Thanks,” Steve tells him, and then, skimming through the first paragraph,

 

 

   “Emancipated five years ago?”

 

 

   Agent Coulson’s expression darkens slightly.

 

 

   “Yes. There were... familial complications. Allegations of abuse, among other things, as well as the revelation that Loki was in fact not their biological offspring. It caused some unpleasantness at the time,” he states blandly, and Steve frowns.

 

 

   “I see,” he replies, but the truth is that he doesn’t because the information given in this file is painfully vague and unhelpful, and Steve had hoped for just a little more to prepare himself for meeting this youth.

 

 

   “A somewhat strained relationship is maintained with some of the adoptive siblings, but you’ll be fully briefed as to their details as well if this all pans out the way we want it to,” Agent Coulson assures him, before turning his attention to another agent who is signalling him to attend to something.

 

 

   “Will you excuse me?” he says pleasantly, before rising and striding across the craft to begin a hushed conversation Steve has no interest in listening in on.

 

 

   “It doesn’t matter what that file says,” Agent Hill opines,

 

 

   “You’ll never be prepared enough to meet this one.”

 

 

   Steve raises his eyebrows.

 

 

   “Oh? What can you tell me?” he asks, and Agent Hill wrinkles her nose as if whatever memories she’s calling up are distasteful to her.

 

 

   “Well, think ‘ _antichrist_ ’ and you’ll be halfway there,” she finally suggests, and Steve is slightly taken aback.

 

 

   “That sounds a little... extreme,” Steve points out, and Agent Hill grimaces.

 

 

   “Maybe to you.”

 

 

   She says nothing more on the subject until Agent Coulson joins them again to inform them that they’ll be landing shortly, and by then Steve’s already read and re-read the file three times and decided that it’s essentially useless to him in this situation and that whatever the outcome of this meeting will be is going to rest upon what this Loki thinks of Steve in the flesh.

 

 

   He doesn’t have long to wait to find out.

 

 

   The Steele Institute is, as promised, crawling with uniforms, which is some comfort to Steve whose only concern in that department now is whether this _Loki_ may have any aversion to overtly military-affiliated persons.

 

 

   The other thing the Institute is crawling with, is children, although not literally. He does his best to get the word ‘babysitting’ out of his head, but as far as he can tell, a good many of the uniformed staff he can see do appear to just be supervising the children in their various outdoor pursuits, most of which seem entirely recreational at first glance until Steve realises that one little girl is setting up a mortar and he remembers that this is a place for exceptional young people to exercise exceptional talents for the benefit of their government and the enormity of what’s really happening here really hits home.

 

 

   They’re examined in what can only be described as the lobby by guards who do not immediately subside when the agents flash their identifications and claim to have an appointment. Steve appreciates the professionalism of that, and of the way they keep their weapons trained on the little group until the overseer who is expecting them is called for and arrives on the scene.

 

 

   “Ah, Agent Coulson, Agent Hill, good to see you again,” the attractive woman greets them warmly, and Agent Coulson steps forward and shakes her hand.

 

 

   “Dr. Ross, always a pleasure. We’ve brought another candidate to interview,” he says mildly, and Dr. Ross adjusts her glasses and gives Steve a once-over.

 

 

   “As agreed, then. We’ve been expecting you,” she replies, turning away and leading them down an airy hallway. They pass three perfectly ordinary-looking children of ages ranging from approximately six to nine and thirteen on their way, the youngest two both accompanied by marines.

 

 

   Dr. Ross and Agent Coulson exchange pleasantries as they walk, until Agent Hill says,

 

 

   “So how are we doing today?” and Dr Ross flashes her a slightly exasperated smile.

 

 

   “Oh, same old. I really hope this works out, it’s putting quite a strain on everyone,” she replies, sounding a little concerned, and Steve asks,

 

 

   “Has any of this affected the other children?”

 

 

   “No, luckily none of the attempted kidnappings happened while here, although one did take place just a mile up the road. That was the first one, after that we started flying in instead of driving. It’s been a bit of a hassle, but if that’s what it takes,” Dr. Ross responds, smiling a little more sincerely, and then,

 

 

   “Oh, here we are,” indicating a door marked 166. She doesn’t open it, instead she turns to Agent Coulson and the tiredness bleeds into her smile again as she says,

 

 

   “I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but if this doesn’t work out either, all our resources remain at your disposal. We don’t want to endanger any of the others, but so far this has remained a safe space. If no other arrangements can be made, Loki can stay here.”

 

 

   Steve is surprised to see Agent Coulson press the young woman’s hand in what seems to be a comforting gesture as he reassures her that,

 

 

   “I’m sure this will turn out to be the right fit. I don’t want you to worry about this facility or any of the children, if you have any concerns contact us immediately. You know we can’t ask Loki to stay here indefinitely, but it’s good to know that we have that option. Thank you.”

 

 

   Dr. Ross nods and looks relieved, and then knocks on the door and opens it. She doesn’t enter completely, which Steve finds odd, but given the wall of noise comprised of what sounds like sheet metal being torn apart by angry gods and the hammer of Satan thundering against the anvil of human despair which emerges from even the slight space between door and frame that she has created, Steve’s not so sure he’d want to just plunge into the room beyond either. He’s surprised that she doesn’t shout across the cacophony and instead speaks softly when she says,

 

 

   “Loki, Agent Coulson and Agent Hill are here to see you. They’ve brought someone with them. Can we come in?”

 

 

   She must have been heard and understood, because the sounds are abruptly muted and she opens the door fully and gestures for the two agents and Steve to follow her inside.

 

 

   It’s like stepping into another dimension, but Steve is distracted from this by the observation he has just made, and instead of passing Dr. Ross in the doorway, he murmurs,

 

 

   “This room is soundproofed?”

 

 

   Dr. Ross is apparently unready for the question because she blinks and needs to gather herself before replying,

 

 

   “Some rooms are. Some of the children conduct experiments at disruptive volumes, usually under supervision. Why?”

 

 

   “Captain Rogers is concerned that this may present a security risk, Dr. Ross. Agent Coulson, how is it that not a single candidate you have presented to me thus far besides the good Captain has raised this issue? Could it be that they did not notice? Or perhaps they felt that this job was beneath them somehow and didn’t think it called for the full application of their mental acuity?”

 

 

   Steve scans the room in a single glance. It looks like a cross between a mad scientist’s lair from on old horror film, an incredibly high-tech research laboratory, and a construction site. The lighting is not overhead, although Steve does see a set of fixed dome lamps, but instead concentrated on workspaces – probably the most utilised – by little clusters of glowing bulbs on the ends of slender tentacle-like arms fastened to various pieces of equipment.

 

 

   There is a jackhammer embedded in a heap of metal on one side of the room, four separate workbenches, no two alike in configuration or style as to equipment or apparent uses and all four standing with no immediately recognisable pattern or reason to their placement at disjointed and haphazard angles, and something that looks like an altar to black magic or slaughterhouses cut out of stainless steel upon which is a truly impressive computer set up with no wires Steve can see and no obvious power source.

 

 

   Behind this is a holographic galaxy suspended in mid-air, although as Steve looks more closely he sees that it is a series of overlapping projected screens with semi-translucent inscriptions scrolling down and across them which Steve can only describe as ‘runic’, giving the appearance of a roiling silver star cluster.

 

 

   Against this impressive backdrop is a tall, slender figure wearing a black leather jacket, black trousers, and heavy – almost industrial-looking – black leather boots. Dark hair shines from the light of the holographic screens and flicks out in a strangely feathery way around the shoulders. Steve can see elegant, very pale hands at the cuffs of the jacket dancing over a projected keyboard, which also appears to be runic, as though playing the piano. He’s not surprised that the smooth, educated voice belongs to someone like this, although he is surprised by almost everything else.

 

 

   This is not what Steve expected. For one thing, this cannot be a child. For another, Steve was not envisioning something quite so...

 

 

   “Loki, I can assure you that is not the case,” Agent Coulson says kindly,

 

 

   “Everyone you’ve interviewed so far has been completely qualified for the task and more than willing to carry it out. If they hadn’t been, they never would have been selected.”

 

 

   “Nice to hear you appreciate Captain Rogers’ thoroughness, though,” Agent Hill remarks, and Steve hears the touch of hope in her voice and thinks that she’s reaching a little obviously and that she doesn’t want to be here, wants this to be over and wrapped up.

 

 

   “Agent Hill,” Loki replies,

 

 

   “I trust you’ve been well.”

 

 

   “Loki, will you be alright for now or is there something else you need while I’m here?” Dr. Ross asks, and Steve notices how sincerely kind she looks and sounds and files it away for safe-keeping – she enjoys her job, she really cares about the welfare of these kids.

 

 

   “Actually,” Loki says in a far brighter tone, turning from the projections to face them,

 

 

   “I didn’t have lunch. Could you perhaps have a glass of water and a sandwich sent up please? The sandwich should have cheese, but it’s not a deal-breaker. Thank you.”

 

 

   Steve Rogers was not expecting anything quite so completely _striking_. It seems the only thing he did imagine that fits is the habit of forgetting to eat proper meals at proper times, but he’s hardly thinking of that.

 

 

   Loki is fine-boned and pale and, well, _beautiful_. He looks like an angrily-drawn pen-and-ink of an artist’s lost lover, done by a master of the art in mourning who has yet to accept their loss.

 

 

   He has the sharpest, most vivid eyes Steve has ever seen, and yet at the same time there’s a soulfulness to them in the same way that there is a sensitivity to his mouth despite the stubbornness more prominent.

 

 

   “Loki, you have to remember to eat,” Dr. Ross admonishes, but it has the weak quality of something said so often that it’s basically habit by now, and any real firmness is drowned in how fond she sounds.

 

 

   “Of course, I’ll take care of it. I’ll leave you to it,” she says, and does just that, and Loki leans against the edge of his stainless steel – operating table/shrine to his computer? – and says,

 

 

   “Agent Hill, I see you’ve brought me something shiny. How delightful.”

 

 

   Steve can hear the teasing in his voice, but Agent Hill doesn’t seem to or else she doesn’t care because she bristles and retorts,

 

 

   “All this is for your benefit, Loki. The least you can do is be civil.”

 

 

   “I am sorry, I wasn’t aware that I was being anything but. Accept my apologies. Perhaps you’d like to wait outside? I know you dislike it in here,” Loki suggests, the picture of contrition, and Agent Coulson smiles and says,

 

 

   “Maybe we’ll both wait outside, and you and the Captain can get to know one another.”

 

 

   Loki turns his attention fully to Steve and all but dissects him and catalogues his organs with the power of his gaze in three seconds flat, and then smiles softly.

 

 

   “You can stay. Will you stay?” he murmurs, and Steve smiles back.

 

 

   “If you’d like me to, sure. That’s what I’m here for. Maybe we could talk about that if you’re done working for now,” he replies, as neutrally as he can, still trying to piece himself back together mentally. There is something about Loki’s eyes that makes him feel like he’s being taken apart surgically to have his internal workings checked out.

 

 

   “Absolutely,” Loki says agreeably, and the agents leave quietly.

 

 

   “You’ve got quite the set-up here,” Steve comments,

 

 

   “What is that you were working on just now? It’s beautiful.”

 

 

   Loki’s eyes dance and widen and seem to pull Steve in.

 

 

   “You think so? Yes, I designed it. Form _and_ function. Much like yourself,” he responds, almost casual were it not for the barely-detectable undercurrent of nervous tension thrumming around him like an aura of restlessness.

 

 

   “Of course,” he carries on before Steve can reply, a strange intensity creeping into his voice and making him seem somehow less coordinated,

 

 

   “I had no hand in your development, that took place a good three years before my inception, unless one considers it all as being a constantly-evolving non-linear occurrence. That was all the doing of the universe, rather than the doing of another product of the universe designing something to mimic the universe at work to use as a tool for manipulating the world as it has become through development by others.”

 

 

   “Loki,” Steve says gently, calmly, not sure whether he’s interrupting or taking advantage of a forced intermission Loki’s working to place at this point in his own narrative,

 

 

   “Before we came in, what were you listening to?”

 

 

   Loki’s face loses some of the blank rigidity that swept across it the moment Steve spoke and becomes animated again, although in a slightly less frantic way than before.

 

 

   “It’s a demo recording. My brother sent it over for me to listen to,” he replies, and Steve smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way.

 

 

   “Okay, well I’ve never heard anything like it in my life, but I like to listen to music while I work too. I find it helps me focus.”

 

 

   Steve is dropping some major hints and he knows Loki will pick up on them because clearly this is a person who can run mental circles around most people, but he’s really hoping this will work and that Loki won’t find it offensive, because Steve is seeing something he’s willing to bet most people don’t see when they take a good look at Loki.

 

 

   Loki is barely twenty years old and hasn’t had a parental figure in his life since he was fourteen. There’s every possibility the parental figures he did have before that weren’t all that they should have been, and although Steve has never been a betting man, he is willing to place good money on the fact that Loki’s intelligence has been a hindrance to him socially throughout his young life.

 

 

   “They let you listen to music while you work? Isn’t that a liability?” Loki asks, as if being faced with a question he cannot immediately see the answer to is novel and his mind is still working on puzzling out the various possible answers before he’s even asked in the first place.

 

 

   “I’m sorry, I should have been more specific. I’m an artist in my free time – well, I dabble – and that’s the work I was referring to,” Steve clarifies,

 

 

   “They don’t pipe music into our headsets while we’re in the field, that would be incompetent and someone would probably lose their job.”

 

 

   “You were a fine arts student before all this,” Loki says, nodding as if this makes perfect sense to him,

 

 

   “But I appreciate the clarification. I know everything about you, though. I wouldn’t have agreed to this meeting unless I did.”

 

 

   “There’s no harm in being particular about who you keep around you,” Steve agrees, although he’s sure that Loki takes that mentality to extremes whether purposely or not,

 

 

   “You don’t know _everything_ about me, though, that’s not possible.”

 

 

   “Everything that matters,” Loki insists, shrugging, and Steve’s smile is wry this time.

 

 

   “You can’t know everything that matters without ever speaking to me,” he argues. Loki’s eyes sharpen and pierce uncomfortably again.

 

 

   “You think just because you don’t have much of an online presence I can’t figure out everything there is to know about you without even leaving this room? You don’t need to have one of those embarrassingly frank Facebook profiles for me to be able to find everything I need to know just by accessing a program from here. All your records, from military to dental, at the tips of my fingers. From your graduating art project – lovely watercolour by the way, the consumptive _Ophelia_ – to the online diary your last girlfriend kept where you were briefly mentioned; I have seen it all,” Loki informs him, dark and seething, and Steve hears what he doesn’t say.

 

 

   _Don’t question me. Don’t provoke me. Don’t underestimate me._

 

 

   Duly noted.

 

 

   Not that Steve had planned on making any of those glaringly obvious mistakes.

 

 

   “Maybe I didn’t express myself correctly,” Steve says carefully,

 

 

   “I meant that all that information may be real and useful and applicable, but I’m here so you can decide whether or not you can stand to have me around all the time. That’s probably the most important aspect of this and it’s not something you can get a real feel for just by reading up on me. You’d need to meet me – like we’re doing now – and decide how you feel about me as a physical presence in your life.”

 

 

   Steve’s really hoping that he’s expressing himself correctly _now_ , because this spiky, jagged-edged creature is every bit as difficult as Steve’s been led to believe, only in a very different way to any that have been described.

 

 

   Loki’s not difficult on _purpose_ as far as Steve can tell; Loki seems to be locked inside his own mind so impenetrably that he needs to be distracted from everything he knows and sees and senses and thinks just to function on a level other people can mildly relate to.

 

 

   Steve knows someone just like that, although Loki appears to be a little worse, and while this by no means makes Steve any kind of expert and he fully appreciates that every person and their experience of themselves, the world, and everyone else in it is completely individual, he feels that Loki isn’t used to being met with any kind of empathy or understanding for and of who he is outside these walls.

 

 

   Maybe Steve can help provide that.

 

 

   “This protective detail, it’s invasive, and you’re used to your own space. I respect that and I fully understand it, and I’m going to try and make sure to minimise my impact on your everyday life, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to have to deal with me being in your space and in your life for the foreseeable future, if you agree to this arrangement, and to make an informed decision in that regard, you need to assess whether you have any strong negative reactions to me in person, because if you do – and I won’t be offended, I get it, it’s fine – then this arrangement won’t work. You need to be comfortable, otherwise this is a waste of time. I wouldn’t feel right working hard to keep you alive and well if you couldn’t function normally because of that.”

 

 

   Loki is watching him very carefully, as though waiting for something, and he finally says,

 

 

   “What is normal functionality?”

 

 

   Steve smiles disarmingly, although he’s aware that Loki is never without weapons as long as he is conscious.

 

 

   “Normal functionality would be whatever you perceive it to be, whatever it usually is. There’s going to be some disruption to your routine, but we’ll try and keep it minimal. If there’s anything you like or do or need, we’ll see about accommodating those things as they become relevant. Normality is subjective. Like Agent Hill said, this is all for your benefit. Your wellbeing is my only concern,” he elucidates, and Loki’s eyes narrow at the mention of Agent Hill.

 

 

   “Agent Hill despises me,” he says succinctly, and Steve wants to wince at how much clarity is behind the statement, how fully Loki has understood the extent of Agent Hill’s dislike.

 

 

   “Agent Hill doesn’t really know you,” Steve replies,

 

 

   “And neither do I. I was handed a file on you a few hours ago that didn’t even have your picture attached – I had no idea what to expect. This is a completely clean slate for me, you can tell me whatever you want, or don’t, that’s fine. All I need is for you to promise that if I ask you a question that’s relevant to my orders to keep you safe and well, you’ll do your best to answer me truthfully, and if I tell you to do something in a situation where you’re under threat, you’ll comply to the best of your ability. The success of this is going to rely heavily on your cooperation.”

 

 

   “I understand,” Loki says, and Steve doesn’t doubt that he does, but he follows it with,

 

 

   “Tell me why you think I could glean meaningful, valuable insight into who you are as a person and whether or not this will work for me via the medium of one face to face interaction, but think that Agent Hill, who has worked on my case for some time now, knows next to nothing about who I am.”

 

 

   Steve adjusts his stance slightly to rest more of his weight on his other leg, and says,

 

 

   “Because Agent Hill came at you and your case as a professional doing her job. Whatever she’s decided she does or doesn’t like about you, that’s all come later. It could even be that there was something in the original briefing on you she received that she didn’t like or that struck a wrong note with her for some reason; that’s hardly your fault.”

 

 

   “You’re here with me in this room right now as a professional doing your job,” Loki points out,

 

 

   “What’s the difference?”

 

 

   “I’m here as a person interviewing for a potential job,” Steve corrects lightly,

 

 

   “My main focus is to ascertain whether or not you and I are professionally compatible, true, but in order to do that, we need to have an actual conversation about who we are as people. I think I’d be right in saying you’ve probably never had an ordinary conversation with Agent Hill about what kind of music you like.”

 

 

   “I like a wide variety of things. I was recently introduced to electro-swing, of which I have grown quite fond,” Loki informs Steve quite plainly, clearly choosing not to waste time confirming what they both know to be the case re. Agent Hill, and then says, quietly,

 

 

   “I’m not what you expected. No one enters into anything they were warned about without any preconceptions or assumptions. So; am I a disappointment? _I_ don’t think I’m the antichrist, but as you said, everyone’s normality is subjective, their experience individual.”

 

 

   Steve is caught off guard by this one word, and is compelled to ask, deeply disquieted,

 

 

   “Has she ever called you that to your face or said it while you were within earshot?”

 

 

   Loki smiles and looks at his computer with an odd light to his eyes that almost manages to wipe away the smudges of insomnia.

 

 

   “Captain, I am always within earshot.”

 

 

   Steve is suddenly hearing the words from this morning again and he understands now.

 

 

_...succeeded in assembling a program which can control and alter all communications and monitor any secure channels..._

 

 

   Loki can eavesdrop on the world, if he so chooses, as long as there is an open channel or communications device nearby.

 

 

   Steve thinks of what he must have heard people say – what he must have heard Agent Hill say, for one, and others – and he admires Loki’s concentrated effort at courtesy towards the woman who so obviously does not like him all the more.

 

 

   It’s more than a revelation though, it’s suddenly very clear to Steve why this individual, this whisper-flimsy black-clad youth, is a high-value asset on the DAL*.

 

 

   Not only can Loki hear everything, he can change information as it’s being issued into the world.

 

 

   Being able to do that, to control something like that – hell, to build something like that... It’s incredible, but it’s also tantamount to painting a target on your back and walking into a Terrorist Convention.

 

 

   Steve wonders if Loki even considered that when he built this thing or if he just did it and only realised the magnitude of his actions afterwards. Steve sort of wants to know whether Loki ever considered just destroying it and why he told anyone about it at all.

 

 

   “Even if I wasn’t you just confirmed that this was a descriptive term used about me by the person in question,” Loki goes on, shattering Steve’s fragile web of unpleasant musings, and Steve has to smile.

 

 

   “Well played,” he acknowledges, and Loki smiles back a little.

 

 

   “Thank you. May I ask, do you shift your weight as you stand at ease out of habit, comfort, or necessity?” he asks, and Steve frowns.

 

 

   “I’m sorry?”

 

 

   “Your CNS injury. It was in your records. You’ve made a full recovery, so I am asking whether you are still suffering any discomfort or side effects of treatment? That can be one of the signs that further rehabilitation is required,” Loki explains, and Steve blinks.

 

 

   “No. You’re right, it can be, but not in this case. I did make a full recovery, I’m perfectly healthy now, thank you for asking. If anything I’m sort of itching to stretch my legs after all that time recuperating and today’s been kind of slow on physical activity,” he says honestly, and Loki nods sagely.

 

 

   “Understandable. I didn’t think you were truly still in need of a recovery period, if you were Agent Coulson never would have suggested you as a candidate for this,” he divulges, and Steve smiles a little more softly.

 

 

   “So where do we stand on this? It’s your decision,” he reminds Loki.

 

 

   “Well... I’m going home today – at least, I planned to – and if your orders are effective immediately from the point of my agreeing to this arrangement, then I suppose you’ll be coming with me, if that is agreeable to you,” Loki says, and Steve finds it a little funny and a little sad all at once how diplomatically Loki is phrasing things.

 

 

   It’s as if Loki really is expecting Steve to turn up his nose because he finds this job ‘beneath him’, and Steve tries not to think of how that may have been true of some other candidates – how it was a little true of himself earlier today when he couldn’t shake the spectre of the word ‘babysitting’ – and of how this is probably just the latest and most sophisticated kind of rejection Loki’s had to face at the hands of a world he can take apart and categorise and listen in on but never really be a part of.

 

 

   Steve puts out his hand and says,

 

 

   “We have a deal.”

 

 

   He doesn’t say a word about how tentatively Loki places his hand in Steve’s, but he does note that the handshake is firm and strong despite those delicate-seeming fingers, and that Loki’s hand is cold.

 

 

   “We have an accord,” Loki agrees, and then smiles, a fleeting, odd thing that seems too bright for his face.

 

 

   “Let’s see about getting you that sandwich then, and put the agents out of their misery. You can tell me what ‘ _electro-swing_ ’ is,” Steve suggests, withdrawing his hand, and Loki withdraws his own and puts it in his jacket pocket.

 

 

   “Gladly.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *DAL = defended asset list, which is exactly what it sounds like.


	3. Engage

 

 

 

   As it turns out, Loki does not like to eat in the company of others, which Steve foresees could be a potential problem in future.

 

 

   This means that once the sandwich and glass of water he requested have been sourced and Loki has retreated into his room to have a very late lunch, Steve is momentarily free to apprise the agents of the situation’s development, and to enjoy their collective relief at being able to finally report back to their Director with a tale of some success.

 

 

   Agent Hill is despatched to the S.H.I.E.L.D craft for a personal chat with the Director to catch him up on what’s happened while Agent Coulson readies the contract for Steve along with a tablet computer within which the more detailed files on Loki are contained. Steve would have preferred files on paper, but as it’s a digital age and all that jazz, he makes do, and stows it under his arm for later perusal while he and Agent Coulson discuss the details of the contract.

 

 

   It’s a fairly straightforward document – Steve is bound by all the usual rules and laws, including a new and more detailed non-disclosure segment which is basically him signing off on never breathing a word of this to anyone who is not on the list of cleared personnel who need to be kept abreast of things. There’s really nothing that stands out until they get to around the middle and things start jumping off the page that Steve needs clarification on.

 

 

   “What does this mean?” Steve asks, indicating a certain paragraph that has so many commas and semicolons that Steve honestly has no idea what it’s trying to do. Agent Coulson checks it against his own copy, which _is_ in fact digital and kept on his handheld communications device, and raises his eyebrows.

 

 

   “Ah, that’s an impact-minimisation clause. Basically, it’s to ensure that you don’t bond too personally with Loki while you’re assigned to him, to maintain professionalism and avoid any negative consequences to Loki’s general wellbeing,” he explains, and Steve looks at him incredulously.

 

 

   “That’s ridiculous – I’m going to be living with him, and I have to promise that we’re not going to end up friends? Agent Coulson – ”

 

 

   “Phil, please,” Agent Coulson interrupts quietly, and Steve quells a little flare of temper.

 

 

   “ _Agent Coulson_ ,” he repeats,

 

 

   “I understand that we have to maintain the borders of professionalism, but you can’t honestly expect us to co-exist at the level of cooperation this mission is going to require of us, and not forge some sort of bond. It’s just plain unrealistic. If anything, enforcing this is going to mean that the long-term impact on Loki’s every day life will be a lot worse and a lot harder for him to handle. You know him, you’ve seen how he interacts with others. Do you really think that keeping me at arms length and enforcing formality is going to be helpful to him, especially if there’s a high-risk situation?”

 

 

   Agent Coulson looks mildly conflicted, but he is a professional just as Steve is a professional, and Steve knows he’s right and that the agent can see what Steve is seeing.

 

 

   Enforcing this puts Loki at risk, and that’s the opposite of what Steve’s here to accomplish.

 

 

   “You can’t expect him to just stay locked away here or at his place either, not if all this is in the name of minimising negative impact on his life, and I’m going to have to stick by him the whole time if we do go anywhere. You can’t tell me that it’s not going to be a lot more conspicuous if it looks like I’m there to do what I am doing, and it will if we have to stick to this,” Steve argues, and Agent Coulson sighs.

 

 

   “I see your point, Captain. It’s true, I doubt Loki would be able to successfully and consistently behave as he normally would if you have to observe the wording of this clause to the letter. He is not at ease in the company of others at the best of times, and it would draw unnecessary attention to both of you if it was obvious that you’re merely there as a protective measure. There has to be some element of familiarity present to ensure it appears a natural arrangement to anyone who might be watching Loki to exploit potential weaknesses...” Agent Coulson muses, and then seems to light up.

 

 

   “There is a way around this. In the files on Loki you were just given, there is an extensive segment detailing his relationship with his adoptive siblings. He doesn’t often see them, but from a purely physical point of view, you would not look entirely out of place among them and their acquaintances, Captain. I don’t think it would be too much of a stretch to put it to the Director that we allow a less rigorous application of this clause in order to maintain the illusion that you are not in fact, and as you say, accompanying Loki merely in the course of doing your duty, but instead present as a visiting friend,” he lays out, and Steve nods.

 

 

   That’s an acceptable, easy solution to what could have been a major problem.

 

 

   Steve can too easily imagine how quickly Loki would become visibly uncomfortable and unsettled in Steve’s company if they had to observe the direct wording of this professionalism clause. No one would ever buy that Steve was shadowing Loki for any other reason than as a human shield and full-time bodyguard – Steve just doesn’t see Loki being able to pull off that level of consistent deception while maintaining his usual functions and routines, and he’s quite sure that the stress of appearing at ease with it to make it seem natural would heavily impact Loki’s mood.

 

 

   “That seems a sensible course of action,” Steve agrees, and Agent Coulson makes a note of it on his copy.

 

 

   “I’ll have this approved immediately and added before anything’s finalised,” he confirms, and they continue with the reading.

 

 

   It’s not long before they’re almost done, but the last three paragraphs all detail the same, greatly comprehensive provision, and it sets off all of Steve’s alarms.

 

 

   “This clause here – that doesn’t make any sense,” Steve murmurs, pointing at the offending phrases, and Agent Coulson frowns.

 

 

   “That – no. This can’t be right. Would you give me just a moment to clear that?” he asks, and Steve nods and continues to stare blankly at the words ‘ _liability_ ’ and ‘ _elimination_ ’.

 

 

   Agent Coulson returns within five minutes, mouth drawn into a thin line and a grim set to the flesh around his eyes as if he’s keeping his expression as close to neutrality as he can while inwardly raging.

 

 

   “The Director can confirm that these provisions are in accordance with the emergency authority you have been cleared for, for the purposes of your mission, and that they are non-negotiable,” he says tightly, and Steve gapes at him.

 

 

   “ _What?_ ” he demands, disbelief washing through him and making him feel sick, and Agent Coulson looks away briefly as if to gather himself and then says, monotonously, as if reciting,

 

 

   “The articles laid down in this contract are non-negotiable. They clearly state that in the event of a situation that could lead to the critical asset in question falling into enemy hands or being compromised by enemy forces, it shall be within your discretionary powers to assess whether the asset is set to become a liability and to carry out eliminatory denial measures to prevent such a development.”

 

 

   “That’s... he’s a _person_...” Steve expels, utterly repelled by this, and Agent Coulson closes his eyes as if he needs a moment to himself.

 

 

   “Captain Rogers, I understand your feelings, believe me, but... We can’t risk it. We need to know that if it comes to that, you will be able to – ”

 

 

   “Pull the trigger? End it all? That’s disgusting, you can’t expect me to – ”

 

 

   “We do expect it! I don’t like it any more than you do, but we have no choice in the matter. There is a fine line between critical asset and potential high-risk liability, and we need to be assured that in the event of this line being crossed, you will act immediately and in the best interests of your nation,” Agent Coulson cuts across Steve’s heated protest sharply, angrily, and Steve bites his tongue, outraged and appalled.

 

 

   “Captain, I’m sorry. I didn’t know about this provision until now. I never thought they’d receive this clearance, but it’s done and all we can do now is our damnedest to protect Loki and ensure it never, ever comes to that,” Agent Coulson says, wearily but gently, and Steve shakes his head, bitterly angry.

 

 

   “This is wrong. It’s inhuman and wrong, and I won’t do it. I’d rather die trying to extricate him. For God’s sake, he didn’t ask for any of this, he’s just a kid!” he snaps, and Agent Coulson sighs.

 

 

   “The Director and the Council are of the opinion that this was unavoidable and that Loki has brought this upon himself by virtue of what he has created. The fact that he did so at the encouragement of his government is not a mitigating factor. The simple truth is that Loki is a critical asset, and that in the event he is compromised, we are all at risk. It’s utilitarian and I am thankful that I wasn’t the one asked to make that call, but in the end, there’s nothing we can do. You are not assigned this mission officially until you sign this contract, and those provisions aren’t going anywhere,” he says heavily.

 

 

   “I’ll sign it,” Steve grates,

 

 

   “I’ll sign their contract, and I’ll keep him safe so it won’t ever come to that. I will _not_ pull the trigger on that kid, do you hear me? That’s not going to happen.”

 

 

   Agent Coulson meets his gaze, but there’s an awful sorrow and an even more terrible fatigue in his eyes as he does so.

 

 

   “I believe you, Captain Rogers. I pray none of us will ever have to. Sign where indicated, and we can get to work on making it so.”

 

 

   Steve’s quite sure he’s never put pen to paper quite so viciously before in his life, and once he’s done, he throws the pen down as if disgusted by it, pushes away from the table, and gets up.

 

 

   He wants to get as far away from that thing as possible.

 

 

   “Loki still in his room?” he asks, trying to get back some equilibrium, and Agent Coulson nods.

 

 

   “You two should get to know each other a little better before you leave. He has some things to pack up, I believe. I have to report back and file this.”

 

 

   Steve nods curtly, but doesn’t say anything as he leaves. He’s had just about enough of agents and Directors and government initiatives for one day, and he’d really like to get Loki safely out of here and back to wherever he spends the rest of his time, so Steve can set about making it the most secure place on Earth.

 

 

   He can’t help looking around him at all the various children he sees as he makes his way back to Loki’s room, and think to himself how horrible it is that someone would want to hurt them.

 

 

   It’s so much worse when he considers how they might be so much safer if they’d never come here to have their talents ‘developed’ for certain purposes in the first place, and he finds himself locking eyes with a few of the marines attached to some of these kids as he walks and wondering whether they’ve had to sign contracts with the words ‘ _liability_ ’ and ‘ _denial measures_ ’ in them as well.

 

 

   He almost walks right into one who’s giving a sleepy-looking five-year old a piggyback ride when he’s two doors down from 166, but reflexes and training come to everyone’s aid and instead he smiles and says,

 

 

   “Sorry about that. She okay?”

 

 

   The marine carrying the little girl is as dark-skinned as she is, they could almost be relatives, and he smiles right back, hoisting the fragile cargo a little higher.

 

 

   “Sure, she’s fine. You looking pretty beat down yourself – taking a break from yours?” he asks, and Steve is a little surprised. He wasn’t really looking to initiate a conversation.

 

 

   “Uh, no, I just got here, going to collect mine right now. Just been a long day,” he replies, trying to inject a little enthusiasm and friendliness into it even though he still feels hollow inside at the thought of what he’s just done.

 

 

   “Ah. Well, you’ll like it here. I never thought this was for me ‘til I came here. Best transfer ever,” the other man says, and the little girl on his back pats him on the cheek with a chubby-wristed little hand and whines,

 

 

   “Le’s go...” prompting her steed to roll his eyes.

 

 

   “I hear you,” he grumbles good-naturedly, and then reaches out a hand to clap Steve on the shoulder.

 

 

   “Later, brother,” he says as he continues on his way, and Steve’s smile slides into the right grooves.

 

 

   “Later,” he reciprocates, taking the last few steps to Loki’s room and knocking on the door.

 

 

   He’s still not happy about Loki’s workroom being soundproofed, although he can certainly see how the levels of noise Loki – and his projects – generate could be disruptive to others, but it’s not a priority for now since he and Loki aren’t going to be here much longer.

 

 

   Steve decides to emulate the procedure of Dr. Ross from earlier, knocks again, and opens the door a little. Loki’s not listening to anything as far as Steve can tell, there’s no wall of sound, and so Steve says,

 

 

   “Loki? It’s me. Can I come in?”

 

 

   There’s no reply.

 

 

   Steve believes in starting as he means to go on, and he fully intends to respect Loki’s privacy, but they’re going to have to set up some kind of system for entering rooms and personal spaces later. Right now, Steve is rattled from the episode with Coulson and really just needs to check that Loki’s all present and correct, so he swings the door wide open, scans the room, locates Loki who is stuffing something into a small bag with his back to the door and Steve, and says,

 

 

   “Loki.”

 

 

   Loki gives no indication that he has or has not heard Steve or even knows he’s there at all, but when he moves to take something out of what looks to Steve like a solid piece of computer-related machinery on his steel computer workspace, Steve can see wires trailing from his ears and down to one of his pockets and surmises that Loki’s listening to an mp3 player or some such.

 

 

   He really doesn’t want to freak him out, but it occurs to him that this will be a fine opportunity to teach Loki a lesson in much-needed self-preservation, and so he advances on him, and lays his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

 

 

   Or, he tries to.

 

 

   Loki evades the gesture before Steve’s even really made contact, turns, and would have stabbed Steve in the abdomen with a thin, wickedly sharp knife he conjures from nowhere if Steve hadn’t dodged and grabbed Loki’s wrist.

 

 

   Loki’s eyes are blown wide, but he doesn’t look afraid, just furious, and when Steve reaches up and dislodges the wires connecting to his earphones, he jerks away from the proximity even though he’s mostly trapped between Steve and the table and Steve has yet to let go of his wrist.

 

 

   “ _Don’t_ touch me,” Loki spits, and Steve forces himself to overlook both the disturbing amount of venom in Loki’s tone and the fact that Loki has not relaxed his arm even a little and retains a firm grip on the knife he almost skewered Steve’s left kidney with.

 

 

   “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Steve says calmly,

 

 

   “But you left your door unlocked and didn’t answer when I called you. You can’t incapacitate your hearing and then leave your back to an unlocked door.”

 

 

   “Release me,” Loki demands, and Steve does, gently and slowly, although that doesn’t seem to matter to Loki, who snatches back his hand and takes a full three steps away from Steve to stand behind his worktable.

 

 

   “I’m sorry,” he repeats, but Loki just keeps staring at him, and none of the tension leaves him.

 

 

   “I’ll never do it again,” Steve promises, and Loki secrets his knife away from wherever he was keeping it before and flashes him a dirty look.

 

 

   “Whenever anyone says that, they only ever mean that they won’t do it again _immediately_. Don’t lie to me,” Loki cautions, and Steve crosses his arms.

 

 

   “How about we make a deal. I won’t ever do that to you again, and you’ll promise to take better care and not leave your back open like that,” he suggests, and Loki holds his gaze for a few more seconds and then turns back to the little bag he was packing before. He slides something compact and metallic into it from the area where he was operating his holographs earlier and then fastens it. He also gathers the wires now caught on his jacket and rolls them up, storing them in an inside pocket.

 

 

   “I want to go home,” he says quietly,

 

 

   “Right now. I don’t want to stay here any longer.”

 

 

   There’s an edge to Loki’s voice that Steve doesn’t like, and he’s willing to believe that Loki’s state of mind is currently performing a very delicate balancing act between _somewhat reasonable_ and _some kind of breakdown_ , and Steve hates that he may have made that happen.

 

 

   “Sure, okay, that’s the plan. Are you all ready to go?” he asks, as if they’re just having a commonplace conversation and nothing just occurred, and Loki eyes him warily.

 

 

   “My clothes are in my bedroom. That’s it,” he discloses, and Steve retreats to the door, opens it, and stands in the doorway.

 

 

   “Let’s go get them so we can take you home, then,” he suggests, but it takes Loki a little longer than Steve would have liked to make his way across the room, and he doesn’t pass Steve in the doorway, instead he waits for Steve to exit into the hall and then follows him, closing the door on his way out.

 

 

   “Is all your stuff going to be okay until you get back?” Steve asks casually, keeping a good bit of space between them, and Loki hoists his little bag over his shoulder.

 

 

   “No one gets into that room unless I want them to,” he replies cryptically,

 

 

   “Not once I’ve sealed it.”

 

 

   Steve senses that pushing the issue isn’t the best choice, and so instead he trails after Loki, who seems to have a definite destination in mind, further down the hallway and into another part of the building.

 

 

   “You’ve got pretty good reflexes,” Steve remarks,

 

 

   “Where’d you learn that?”

 

 

   It’s not the conversation starter he was hoping it could be, judging from the way Loki hunches in on himself slightly as he walks, and it’s confirmed by the way Loki just says,

 

 

   “I had brothers.”

 

 

   If there were red flags before, this is more like a neon sign above an activated air raid siren, but Steve has to know, and so he asks,

 

 

   “And the knife?”

 

 

   Loki turns a corner and Steve follows him, just catching how Loki raises a hand to his mouth and then puts it back in his pocket.

 

 

   “I had a family,” Loki replies flatly.

 

 

   Steve doesn’t ask. He’s not sure he wants to know, but he’s quite sure there’ll be some mention of it in the files on the tablet he’s still toting around, and now he’s not so sure he wants to look at them.

 

 

   Information collected and compiled by someone else about this fragile genius wafting down corridors at Steve’s side isn’t going to be anything like as helpful or as true as getting the same facts straight from the source, and if that’s the case then Steve’s not sure he wants it, because Loki doesn’t seem at all inclined to talk about any of it freely.

 

 

   Then again, Steve’s going to have to read through all of it. This is his mission, his objectives have been made clear, and he can’t afford to turn down any opportunity to learn more about the person he’s been assigned to keep alive.

 

 

   _Or murder, should he feel the situation calls for it._

 

 

   Steve’s so shocked and repulsed by the thought that he almost runs into Loki, who has stopped in front of another door.

 

 

   “Your bedroom?” Steve asks, and Loki nods and opens it, walking in but making no sign as to whether Steve’s allowed to follow.

 

 

   It’s not a large space – there’s a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, two windows – so Steve just hovers in the doorway and watches Loki gather up another, slightly larger bag from where it’s lying on an immaculately-made bed.

 

 

   There are posters all over the walls, some of them astronomy-related, a great many of them clearly music-related although a recurring theme seems to be bones and indecipherable logos.

 

 

   Steve can’t help thinking that Loki’s workspace seems a lot more personal than this room – this space has been decorated, true, but it lacks the feeling that someone spends a lot of time in here. Steve considers the smudges around Loki’s eyes and thinks to himself that something they’re going to have to look at is regularising sleep rhythms.

 

 

   “Want me to carry that?” Steve indicates the bag, and Loki hands it over without a word, letting Steve leave the room first and then closing the door behind both of them.

 

 

   “I have to see Dr. Ross and tell her how long I’ll be away,” he informs Steve, and Steve frowns.

 

 

   “I take it that’s not consistent.”

 

 

   “No,” Loki replies, almost tonelessly,

 

 

   “It all depends on what I’m working on, what personal projects or plans I have going...”

 

 

   Loki looks completely exhausted for a moment before his expression smoothes over again into blankness, and Steve reaches out his arm and blocks Loki’s path, fully expecting Loki to stop and recoil from a potential collision. He is not disappointed, and when Loki turns to face him, a frustrated look entering his eyes, Steve holds up both his hands and takes a step back, removing himself from Loki’s personal space as far as is possible within the confines of the corridor.

 

 

   “Loki, listen,” he begins quietly,

 

 

   “I really am sorry for what happened earlier, and I can promise that I won’t do it again. I know today’s been rough on you so far – to tell you the truth I’m starting to feel it too – and I know you just want to go home. I can understand that, and we’re going to make it happen as soon as possible. Any details we need to work out we can always talk about once you’re home and settled in, that’s all fine, but right now I really need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you accept my apology and that you believe that the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

 

 

   “You’re not getting paid to keep me _happy_ , Captain Rogers, just alive and useful. Or not,” Loki mumbles dully, although he does meet Steve’s gaze, and Steve frowns.

 

 

   “What are you...”

 

 

   Coulson.

 

 

   Calls have been made. Reports have been sent. No one was with Loki, no one spoke to him about any of this.

 

 

   He won’t have heard Steve protesting the uglier parts of this.

 

 

   Loki will have heard and seen ‘ _asset_ ’ and ‘ _liability_ ’ and ‘ _denial measures_ ’ and ‘ _elimination_ ’.

 

 

   Loki will have tried to block that out and stay focused and grounded somehow –

 

 

   Steve interrupted that process, and he managed to do it by scaring him further.

 

 

   “Loki, listen to me,” Steve says, quietly and urgently,

 

 

   “I know what you heard, and I know how that must have made you feel. What you didn’t hear is myself and Agent Coulson agreeing that it is _never_ going to come to that.”

 

 

   Loki’s not looking at Steve anymore, but he is listening. Steve is struck by how so many of Loki’s problems are caused by his inability to _stop_ listening.

 

 

   “Loki, you need to trust me when I say that I am never going to let anything happen to you, okay? By anyone’s hand, I won’t let any harm come to you. I promise,” Steve tells him, and Loki shakes his head.

 

 

   “You have your orders. Go against those, your career is over. Don’t promise me anything,” he insists, and Steve sighs.

 

 

   “Loki, as far as I’m concerned, those provisions don’t exist. They were forced on me, and I have no intention of abiding by them. You have to believe me on this. Your safety is my highest priority – it’s what I’ve been assigned to care about, and that’s what I’ll do. That contract, those provisions, that’s all S.H.I.E.L.D, and that’s not who I am. I don’t answer to them. I don’t owe them anything. My career isn’t on the line here, but even if it was you can bet that your _life_ would come first in my book any day, do you understand me? I am not on their payroll. My mission statement is clear; keep you – and all citizens of this nation – safe. _That_ is non-negotiable. Tell me you understand that.”

 

 

   Loki says nothing, keeps his eyes on the floor, his hands in his pockets.

 

 

   A long moment passes.

 

 

   “Do you believe that I brought this on myself?” he asks at last, very softly, and Steve is overwhelmed by how _young_ he sounds.

 

 

   “Not even for a second,” he replies vehemently.

 

 

   “And you shouldn’t either. You didn’t ask for any of this. If anyone’s to be held responsible, it’s them. Look where we are – standing in a facility that takes kids with amazing gifts and minds, just like yours, and points them at military problems and government concerns like weapons. First thing I saw when I got here was a little girl setting up a mortar outside. Now, I’m pretty sure she didn’t wake up one morning and decide to play with artillery, so someone must have put that idea in her head somehow and it probably wasn’t her parents. She can’t be blamed for that, just like you can’t be blamed for building whatever amazing thing you’ve built. This is _not_ your fault.”

 

 

   A tiny smile quirks a corner of Loki’s mouth and softens his eyes.

 

 

   “That’ll be Maisy. She’s a trajectory genius. She was building marshmallow catapults originally,” he says, sounding almost proud.

 

 

   “Marshmallow catapults...” Steve repeats under his breath, the urge to find whoever decided to upgrade a little girl named Maisy from something as innocent as marshmallow catapults to field artillery and then run them over with a tank rising in him unbidden.

 

 

   “The _point_ ,” he says firmly, wanting this to be absolutely clear,

 

 

   “Is that I am here to keep you safe and alive, and we are going to accomplish that together. Forget about S.H.I.E.L.D, strike them from the equation, they’re not important right now. Do you trust me to keep you safe?”

 

 

   Loki’s eyes flicker, conflicted and sad, and he reaches out and touches the tip of an index finger to Steve’s arm.

 

 

   “I trust you to do your best, and I trust that you are the best,” he murmurs, withdrawing his hand quickly, and Steve watches him closely.

 

 

   “I hope that’s enough,” Loki adds, and Steve smiles.

 

 

   “It will be,” he assures him, and they carry on their way.

 

 

   It’s not far to Dr. Ross’ office, and she’s happy to see them when Loki cautiously steps through the doorway and says,

 

 

   “I’m leaving now, Dr. I don’t know when I’ll return. Could I perhaps email you?”

 

 

   “Of course, Loki, I understand! Circumstances being what they are,” she says lightly, stepping forward and reaching out, and Steve takes note of how reluctant Loki is to allow her to fold him into a light hug.

 

 

   “Whenever you’re ready to come back to us is fine. I understand you have a lot on your plate right now, and you know you’ll always have a place with us,” Dr. Ross says as she pulls away, and then fixes Steve with a warm look.

 

 

   “You two take care now,” she says kindly, and Steve nods.

 

 

   “And you, ma’am. We’ll be in touch.”

 

 

   Loki seems happier now that this final errand is completed and they’re leaving the building, but while he’s checking out in the front hall, he also seems a little more uncoordinated, and Steve finds himself wishing there were some way for him to distract Loki from whatever’s going through his mind.

 

 

   “How long have you known Dr. Ross?” he asks, and Loki looks up from signing himself out.

 

 

   “Ten years. She wasn’t always the overseer. When I started coming here she was one of the scientists who ran through the behavioural tests with me,” he replies.

 

 

   “Behavioural tests?”

 

 

   Loki nods.

 

 

   “To ascertain what my primary skill set was so they could decide which talents needing developing and how. It’s fairly standard.”

 

 

   Steve doesn’t think there’s anything even slightly _standard_ about any of the children here or what they do, but he doesn’t say so.

 

 

   “I see. That’s a long time, then. Has she always hugged you like that?” he presses, and Loki frowns and walks towards the guards.

 

 

   “Yes. Why?”

 

 

   “You really don’t like to be touched, do you?” Steve asks, curious, and Loki twitches.

 

 

   “Do you allow just anyone to touch _you?_ ” he asks, a little harshly, and Steve blinks.

 

 

   “Well, no,” he replies, and Loki’s eyes flash.

 

 

   “Why should I be any different,” he states – it couldn’t be farther from a question, and Steve nods, acknowledging the fairness of that.

 

 

   “Of course you’re not. I promise I won’t touch you unless it’s important,” he assures Loki, as they pass through the doors and start walking towards the S.H.I.E.L.D craft.

 

 

   “I appreciate that,” Loki replies, fishing in his pocket for something.

 

 

   Steve looks around. The child whom Loki believes must have been Maisy has gone, along with the marine who was supervising her. There is a group of guards a few hundred feet away. There is also a car approaching down the driveway at a sedate pace, what appears to be a family inside. Steve can see a man and woman occupying the front seats, and a small figure in the back. A drop-off, then.

 

 

   Or so he assumes, until he observes that the car does not decelerate as it gets nearer the facility, but in fact speeds up.

 

 

   “Loki,” Steve raps out, but Loki only has time to turn to look at him, still rummaging in a pocket, when the car Steve is visually tracking veers off the gravel drive and accelerates towards them across the lawn.

 

 

   Shots ring out.

 

 

   Before the first has even registered, Steve has swept Loki into his arms and is sprinting the remaining distance to the S.H.I.E.L.D craft.

 

 

   Guards and marines are firing at the vehicle – Steve can hear three different types of gunfire, and he assumes the fourth variant is returning fire from whoever’s driving the car, but it doesn’t matter because he’s passed Agent Coulson who has his weapon trained on a target past Steve’s shoulder, and Steve is tossing Loki bodily into the open hatch of the S.H.I.E.L.D craft and ducking in after him.

 

 

   Agent Hill is right there, screaming,

 

 

   “We’re taking off, strap him in!” and Steve’s hands right Loki and comply, securing him to his seat with the necessary straps.

 

 

   The craft is hovering just above the ground, thrumming beneath Steve’s feet, and he sees Agent Coulson hop in and the hatch close in his peripheral vision, and hears Agent Coulson's shout of,

 

 

   “Target neutralised, all clear!”

 

 

   These details are all occurring in the background, delegated to the notice and responsibility of others.

 

 

   Steve is carrying out a field-check on Loki and asking,

 

 

   “Are you okay?” and a pale, blanched Loki nods and says,

 

 

   “Yes,” but his voice is barely a whisper and his eyes are huge, and when Steve is satisfied that there isn’t a mark on Loki to be found, he reaches into Loki’s pocket and digs out the mp3 player Loki has stashed in there and presses it into Loki’s shaking hands, helping him sort out the wires.

 

 

   “I’m sorry I grabbed you,” Steve tells him calmly,

 

 

   “Like I said – I’ll only touch you when it’s necessary.”

 

 

   Loki nods and bites his lip and fumbles with a knot slightly, and Steve’s hands close over his and just hold them steady for a beat.

 

 

   Agent Coulson claps a hand on Steve’s shoulder and asks,

 

 

   “Everything okay?”

 

 

   “We’re fine,” Steve tells him, and the agent strides off to confer with Agent Hill while Steve remains crouched in front of Loki, thumbs applying very light pressure to the insides of Loki’s wrists where the pulse is flickering erratically.

 

 

   “We’re both fine,” he repeats, and Loki nods and swallows and keeps his desperate eyes on Steve’s.

 

 

   “Are you alright?” Loki asks, his voice a sliver of itself, and Steve smiles.

 

 

   “I said I wanted to run, maybe I should have been more specific on the circumstances I'd prefer,” he jokes, and Loki’s mouth tightens as if he’s honestly trying for an expression other than blankness but doesn’t quite make it.

 

 

   “Hey,” Steve says, getting the last knots out of the wires for Loki’s earphones.

 

 

   “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay? I promise. Now pick something to listen to, and think about how great it’s going to be to be home again.”

 

 

   “Will you stay,” Loki demands stiffly, as Steve helps him situate the earphones without dropping them from twitching fingertips, and Steve smiles.

 

 

   “I’ll be right here. Not that you need me, you’re handling all this pretty well, you’d think it happened all the time!”

 

 

   “I hope it doesn’t. I do need you,” Loki replies, with the sort of shaken honesty small children waking from nightmares exhibit.

 

 

   “Not going anywhere,” Steve assures him, watching to make sure Loki does turn on his music, and sitting up into the seat right next to him as Loki lets his head fall to one side and closes his eyes.

 

 

   Agent Coulson approaches not long after that with an update.

 

 

   “Opportunistic terrorists. Someone tipped them off that Loki was leaving the facility today. It was a spur of the moment hit. No real planning behind it. You did well, Captain. A slower reaction and none of this would have mattered.”

 

 

   Steve throws a glance at Loki, whose eyes are still closed and whose music is still loud enough that it’s slightly audible to Steve, and grimaces.

 

 

   “That was too close,” he says.

 

 

   “It could have been a lot closer,” Agent Coulson says optimistically, before walking back to Agent Hill, and Steve privately agrees.

 

 

   Loki’s eyes open just a little.

 

 

   “I’m still here,” Steve assures him softly, although he’s certain that Loki can’t hear him, but Loki uncurls one hand and reaches across to press a fingertip to the back of Steve’s hand and then closes his eyes again.

 

 

   Steve wonders if he hasn’t learnt something here after all, as he reclaims the tablet with the files on from among Loki’s things – which were unceremoniously dumped at his feet in the commotion – intending to utilise the time until they arrive at their destination to acquaint himself with their contents.

 

 

   The rule regarding necessity of touch goes both ways.

 

 

 


	4. Concept Plan

 

 

 

   Steve is busily committing all the information in the files he was given on Loki to memory, and although the page counter in the corner informs him that he’s nowhere near done yet, he’s already decided that he despises Loki’s adoptive family.

 

 

   The ‘ _allegations of abuse_ ’ which Coulson mentioned in passing earlier today – God, was it only earlier today? – were, it turns out, more than just ‘allegations’.

 

 

   Steve has never been able to stomach proof of harm being done to children, especially by their families, so he does his best to skim through those portions as quickly as possible, but certain words and phrases are not so easily bypassed or forgotten, and a visceral disgust has set in long before Steve is done with the segment on the emancipation process.

 

 

   There is a small attached folder of pictures, and Steve opens it with some trepidation, closing it again without inspecting it further when the thumbnails reveal what Steve can only interpret as minimised images of pale, damaged flesh, and a few x-rays.

 

 

   Steve has zero interest in putting himself through what Loki was put through right now – it’s not relevant, it’s just upsetting – and he finds himself placing a hand briefly over Loki’s where it still rests loosely on Steve’s sleeve before he closes the folder and moves on.

 

 

   What follows is a psychological profile done by a child psychologist around the time the emancipation was finalised, but it’s so vague and references so many different ‘ ** _possible traumas_** ’ and ‘ ** _potential diagnoses_** ’ that in the end Steve decides that the man who carried out the testing probably just wasn’t anywhere near as intelligent as Loki and unwilling to make that concession in an effort to better understand him and what he was dealing with, and that his thoughts on the matter are therefore useless.

 

 

   The profiles of Loki’s adoptive siblings, however, are both informative and interesting.

 

 

   Agent Coulson was accurate in his earlier assessment that Steve would not look too out of place among them – and, Steve can tell from the few attached images of them where they are pictured with friends or acquaintances that Loki also knows, the people they associate with – although he would fit the bill better if he relaxed his standards of grooming somewhat.

 

 

   According to the file, Loki has three adoptive brothers, with whom he shares relationships of varying closeness.

 

 

   Loki is the youngest, as evidenced by the listed dates of birth for all four of them, and made obvious by a picture of the four together, which Steve finds both sad and a little funny, mostly because even though they are all children – Loki can’t be more than five as depicted here – it is painfully obvious that Loki is not cast from the same mould as his adoptive siblings.

 

 

   It’s still an adorable picture, Steve will admit, but there is something tragicomic about how Loki sticks out; a delicate, fey thing with dark hair curling over his forehead and serious eyes, dwarfed by three tall, sturdily-built, golden youths all laughing as one holds the little Loki on his lap and the two others lean in over his shoulders as if conspiring to make merry over their brother’s head.

 

 

   Steve privately thinks that there never was a more fitting picture to illustrate the concept of the word ‘ _changeling_ ’.

 

 

   It’s not hard to identify the three biological brothers once Steve has sunk his teeth into their individual profiles, however similar they are at first glance.

 

 

   Thor, the oldest, is 24, not that much older than Steve himself, and his relationship with Loki is described as ‘ ** _very strained, characterised by consistent conflict_** ’.

 

 

   Apparently, Thor currently makes his living as a professional musician – Steve assumes that he must therefore be responsible for the demo recording Loki claimed was sent to him by his ‘brother’ and which in Steve’s private opinion was probably an elaborate attempt at summoning Satan’s mother in law – but is a trained blacksmith of some skill and reputation, and supplements his income via those channels. He’s built like a tank, so Steve can readily believe that, but there are also no pictures whatsoever of him where he is not smiling, and he is described in the brief psychological profile as of general good temperament despite having some ‘ ** _anger issues_** ’.

 

 

   A full background check has clearly been carried out on all three brothers, and it would seem that someone has interviewed them on the subject of their adoptive brother prior to the emancipation going through, and Steve is intrigued to see that Thor, at least, is noted as being made ‘ ** _visibly uncomfortable_** ’ by questions relating to Loki’s intellectual ability, and that he insists, when questioned, that there is nothing ‘ _wrong_ ’ with Loki, and that Loki ‘ _shouldn’t be allowed_ ’ to attend the Steele Institute.

 

 

   As strange as that seems, whatever reason Thor has for this opinion he does not state it, and from the rest of the transcript Steve can see that he gets openly annoyed at being asked to explain his position re. Loki and the Institute and will only say ‘ _I love my brother and I don’t want to see him like that_ ’. He gives no explanation for this remark either, and storms out when the interviewer repeatedly asks him to clarify his meaning.

 

 

   After these continued assertions that Thor loves his little brother dearly, Steve is unpleasantly surprised when he reaches the end of the report on Thor and there is a brief footnote that names Thor as suspected of being responsible for the simultaneous incomplete greenstick fractures of seven of a very young Loki’s ribs, though how this was accomplished is not noted.

 

 

   Steve’s gaze drifts up the page to the words ‘ ** _anger issues_** ’ and lingers there for a moment before he scrolls onwards.

 

 

   The middle adoptive brother’s first name is listed as _Baldr_ but there is a footnote claiming that he spells his name ‘Balder/Baldur’ depending on where he is at the time. The footnote gets a little sassy when it adds that this makes him a pain in the backside to keep track of remotely. Steve has to wonder whether Loki could have tampered with the files to add this, because he certainly can’t imagine Agent Coulson letting that slide by his editing process.

Balder is, so the file says, 22 years old, quite close to Loki, and makes a concentrated effort to stay in touch. His habit of checking up on Loki whenever he’s in town is listed as ‘ ** _annoyingly consistent_** ’, and once again Steve has to reread the comment and cast a frowning glance at Loki, who Steve is by now quite certain has been interfering with these documents somehow.

Steve’s artistic side idly notes that Balder is rather striking, in a way that would be vaguely androgynous if he was perhaps ever so slightly less obviously male. That’s not to say that he is anything like as large and bulky as Thor, but he does appear quite statuesque in the pictures provided – Steve quietly suspects that whoever compiled the folder of pictures attached to this file developed a mild crush on Balder during the research stage, purely based on the kind of pictures included and the sheer number of them. There are twice as many pictures in this folder as there were in Thor’s, and a great many of the images look professionally styled and shot.

 

   This makes more sense once Steve gets to the part which lists Balder’s occupation as a high-end male model, but Steve is still inclined to find the amount of images provided a touch excessive.

 

 

   Fleetingly, he finds his mind straying to the question of whether Loki has perhaps ever considered dabbling in those same creative waters – he’s certainly appropriately built, and Steve can absolutely imagine him on a runway somewhere, or getting flown out to be the face of something expensive – but Steve’s relieved that if Loki’s ever considered it, there’s no evidence of his ever having acted on the impulse. Loki really does not need to be any more high-profile than he already is, for the sake of Steve’s sanity and Loki’s own continued good health.

 

 

   Reaching the part where a brief psychological evaluation report of Balder is given, Steve is a little stunned to get the distinct impression that whoever carried out this evaluation seems to have developed a crush on the man as well. The word ‘ _ **dreamy**_ ’ is used in a context which Steve isn’t sure is at all professional.

 

 

   It’s reassuring that the brief interview with Balder where he’s asked to talk about Loki seems to back up the psychologist’s evaluation of Balder as a mentally stable, nurturing personality. Balder has nothing but good things to say of his ‘ _sensitive, thoughtful_ ’ adoptive brother, displays great pride in Loki’s intellectual ability and achievements, and expresses a sincere desire to see Loki succeed in whatever he wants to do in life.

   Steve finds it odd that Balder seems as opposed to Loki’s involvement with the Steele Institute as Thor. He is quoted directly as having said that ‘ _it’s not a good place for Loki to be_ ’, and that in his opinion, Loki is always ‘ _worse_ ’ when he returns home after time spent there. He does not elaborate on what he means by ‘ _worse_ ’, not even when pressed, and Steve casts another quick glance at Loki to reassure himself that for all Loki’s been through today, his rest still seems relatively peaceful, at least for the moment.

 

 

   The third brother’s name is given as Hǫðr, no other spellings suggested, and he is according to the file only recently 21 years of age.

Steve can’t quite pinpoint what seems off about the young man’s face until he gets to the first paragraph which explains that Hǫðr was born legally blind. There’s a lot of technical talk, but that’s what it appears to amount to.

As far as Steve can tell, there is nothing obviously abnormal about Hǫðr’s eyes; he just doesn’t look like he’s focusing on anything in particular, unlike most people who have their pictures taken. He also looks mildly sleep-deprived in all the pictures of him, although there is one where he’s depicted with Loki, both of them cuddling a hound of immense proportions wearing a spiked collar, and there Steve can see that Loki probably gets significantly less sleep than Hǫðr does.

 

 

   What Steve can also see is how happy they both look, and that it’s a fairly recent picture, which means that he’s not surprised when the file claims that Loki’s relationship with his youngest adoptive brother is _‘ **close and functional**_ _’._

 The file also tells him that the monstrous animal Loki and Hǫðr are both hugging to death is called Fenrir, and is the result of Loki’s quest to procure an animal to be the perfect guide dog and companion for his brother.

 

 

   The footnote states that Loki, unable to find a specimen he thought suitable, entered into a breeding contract with a prestigious kennel after mapping the basic genetic structure of the dream-dog he was looking to give his brother, and that Fenrir is the finished result of five years of crossbreeding and gene manipulation work. Steve can’t quite wrap his head around that until he considers that Loki is a genius, and that such a feat would hardly have been beyond him at age fourteen.

 

 

   Steve views it as testament to the truth of Loki’s bond with Hǫðr that Loki continued the project even after he’d been emancipated from his family, and is pleased to read that Loki sees this brother regularly. He’s really just relieved that Loki has at least one family member that he gets on with and spends time with, even if, reading on, he finds that ‘regularly’ means about once a month, which isn’t all that often.

 

   The file states that Hǫðr is in fact loosely affiliated with Thor’s musical endeavours – leading Steve to wonder whether _he_ mightn’t have been the one to furnish Loki with the demo – but that he is studying to become a lawyer.

 

 

   His evaluation is interesting in that it describes him as a ‘ _ **fiercely loyal**_ ’ individual with a tendency towards depression, but the interview is the most interesting part of his file.

 

   He refuses to answer every single question put to him, no matter how he is coerced to respond. He simply says nothing, except for one statement made at the very end of the interview just before the transcript tells Steve that he leaves. All he says is, ‘ _you’re all idiots if you think this will help_ ’, and then gets up and leaves the room.

 

 

   Steve sort of wants to meet him if for no other reason than to shake his hand for pissing off S.H.I.E.L.D operatives, which is a thought he briefly examines critically before deciding that no, that _is_ how he feels. Steve’s getting sort of tired of the way S.H.I.E.L.D does things, and especially of the way it’s becoming increasingly obvious that they’ve had a heavy hand in trying to control Loki’s life and keep serious tabs on him for the better part of his existence to the extent where they now seem to think they own the kid.

 

 

   Scrolling on there is a list of people who are acquainted with Loki through his adoptive siblings. Steve’s not really surprised to see that the four people listed as Thor’s best friends are down as being some of Loki’s least favourite individuals in the world, but he’s a little shocked to see that one of them is listed as a potential threat to Loki’s well-being and _‘ **likely to betray him to others if encouraged by the correct means** ’._

   Steve makes a mental note not to let this particular person anywhere near Loki, and to look into keeping Loki away from his oldest brother completely for the foreseeable future – no communications, nothing. He’s not exactly looking forward to having that conversation with Loki, but he’s counting on Loki’s functioning common sense to carry them through.

 

 

   Reading on, it cheers him to see that Loki is at least tolerably fond of Balder’s fiancée, a classically beautiful young woman named Nanna, and that he approves of Thor’s long-term girlfriend, a woman named Jane Foster whose occupation is listed as ‘ _ **astrophysicist**_ ’ and probably goes a long way towards explaining why Loki approves of her.

 

 

   In Hǫðr’s column there is just a name – Sigyn – with no accompanying picture or information, but the name is highlighted as a link to another document, and when Steve opens it, he is greeted with the vaguely-worded explanation that the individual Sigyn is closely acquainted with both Hǫðr and Loki, is suspected by S.H.I.E.L.D of ‘ _ **minor acts of cyber terrorism**_ ’, and is virtually impossible to find and photo-identify.

Steve is not at all surprised that Loki knows people like that – off-the-grid types on government surveillance lists with shady talents – and in truth he finds it a bit funny that for all Loki has so many tabs being kept on him, the document clearly states that this Sigyn is a frequent visitor at Loki’s home and that Loki is probably helping to cover their tracks, and that no one is doing anything about that because none of them can prove it or know how to undo whatever it is the two of them have done to maintain their privacy.

 

 

   Steve trusts Loki not to be openly working with cyber-terrorists, and to a certain extent he also trusts him to pick his friends wisely, but he’s still going to ask Loki about this Sigyn so that Steve can clear them personally and square that particular potential threat away in a manner that is satisfactory to him.

 

 

   Other than that, Steve doesn’t feel that it’s his job to interfere with Loki’s friends, and really, he’d find it a lot weirder if the people Loki chose to regularly associate and potentially collaborate with were ‘normal’ and above-board.

 

  The section on Loki himself which lists some more personal details – his interests, known habits, a list of places he frequents when not at the Institute – is enlightening, and Steve finds himself smiling at a few things it appears he has in common with Loki. Art, for one thing, and a healthy love of second hand bookshops and trying new foods.

 

 

   Steve plans to capitalise on that to see if he can’t motivate Loki to eat more and at regular intervals, which is clearly an issue and is going on the list of positive changes which Steve may as well try to enforce while he’s a part of Loki’s daily routine.

 

 

   There are a few curve-balls. Steve would not have pegged Loki as enjoying any outdoor activity at all, but apparently Loki enjoys skiing and ice-skating and isn’t half bad at snowboarding. He’s also fond of attending concerts, mostly of the heavy-metal variety, which Steve finds a little weird given that Loki dislikes touching ‘just anyone’ and can’t imagine Loki getting any pleasure out of standing in a heaving crowd of hundreds of other people.

 

   He’s going to have to ask about that, he decides, and at the same time make it very clear to Loki that Steve’s not going to be allowing any indulgence in that particular hobby. Steve’s pretty sure will Loki understand that, but at the same time it’s probably just as well to have all the cards on the table from the beginning.

 

 

   Throwing Loki another quick glance, Steve has to admit that going over all this will have to wait until first thing tomorrow. He has no idea when Loki last slept properly, but the stress of today and the events of the last few hours have clearly conspired to knock the poor kid out completely, and Steve doesn’t think Loki will be in any shape to have a serious conversation with Steve about ground rules tonight.

 

 

   Steve sees Agent Coulson approach out of the corner of his eye, and looks up at him, laying the tablet on his lap.

 

 

   “Captain, may I have a word?” Agent Coulson asks quietly, and Steve is torn for a moment between being motivated by unwillingness to leave Loki when he promised not to, and an equal unwillingness to talk to Agent Coulson, whom Steve finds he can’t help but resent a little for everything that happened between them earlier.

 

   In the end, he nods and rises because it doesn’t matter what his personal feelings are, leaving the tablet with Loki’s files in on his now-empty seat, and following the agent to the back of the craft.

 

 

   “Our people have finished their preliminary examination of how information on Loki’s time of departure was leaked,” Agent Coulson begins, looking a little hesitant.

 

 

   “As far as we can determine, an internal communication was intercepted by this terrorist cell and they decided to make the unplanned attempt on Loki without clearing it with their superiors first. All communications regarding Loki were being monitored, and they were planning to wait until the opportune moment to make an attempt, but this offshoot jumped the gun. Before they died, they divulged that their incompetence would have been punished severely anyway.”

 

 

   “Died?” Steve asks,

 

 

   “They were that badly injured?”

 

   “Suicide capsules,” Agent Coulson says,

 

 

   “This group makes extensive use of them among their field operatives.”

 

 

   “So you know who’s responsible,” Steve states, and the agent nods.

 

 

   “For this attempt, yes. We now also know that ideally their plan is to take Loki alive; for their purposes he is no use to them dead. We have no reason to believe that they know where we are taking Loki, but we have decided to muddy the waters all the same. We’re taking you to a S.H.I.E.L.D base where you’ll have the opportunity to change and to explain what’s going on to Loki, and then the two of you will make your way to Loki’s home alone. Just in case, you will be shadowed some of the way by one of our field agents, and three decoys will be leaving the base at the same time as you and travelling to safe houses within a predefined radius of your destination,” Agent Coulson explains.

 

 

   It’s a solid enough plan, if a little obviously cobbled-together at the last minute out of necessity.

 

 

   “How were they monitoring communication?” Steve inquires, and Agent Coulson grimaces.

 

 

   “A viral program embedded in the code of one of our systems. Every time a communication went out that included certain words, the virus would attach itself and spread in hopes of latching on to a relevant message. Nowhere near the same quality of work as some of our experts, but just good enough that it stayed hidden sufficiently long and managed to find what it was looking for. Clearly we need to do better,” he says, and the tone he employs leads Steve to believe that someone is going to be very thoroughly dressed-down for not having met standards.

 

 

   “Clearly,” he agrees, and then poses the query that’s been lodged in his head since all this began.

 

 

   “How is it that with all your resources, you haven’t been able to find a single agent of your own to take this job on, and on top of that you’ve made the call to only put one person onto this despite it being a high-risk, round-the-clock detail?”

 

 

   Agent Coulson’s frown deepens.

 

 

“I’m not at liberty to divulge the thinking that went behind this. I can tell you that there have been complications in securing appropriate personnel for the job, and that I personally recommended that at least two people be assigned to it. I can also tell you that the decision to assign this to one person only was made above my pay grade and that the only reason I was given for it is that this course of action was considered the most obvious and least conspicuous solution to a difficult problem,” he says at last, face twisting as he speaks as if he’s as dissatisfied with what he’s saying as Steve is to hear it.

 

 

   “I’d like to go on record as saying that it’s an incompetent decision that’s going to get people killed,” Steve tells the pained-looking agent plainly, and Agent Coulson sighs and nods wearily.

 

 

   “I’d have to agree with you Captain, but my hands are tied. The Director felt after viewing the assessment reports that placing any more people around Loki would draw too much attention to what we’re trying to do here. The Council is choosing to view this as an opportunity to lure the various factions out into the open so that we can neutralise them. We’ve been unsuccessfully trying to get to some of these organisations for years – the hope is that they’ll expose themselves sufficiently in their pursuit of their objective here to allow us to get our foot in the door and, God willing, finally dissolve them.”

 

 

   Steve has to take a deep breath and fold his arms across his chest so that he doesn’t do something impulsive before he exhales slowly to calm himself and coldly states,

 

 

   “You’re using him as bait.”

 

 

   To his credit, Agent Coulson looks deeply ashamed and horribly weary as he nods grudgingly.

 

 

   It doesn’t make Steve want to punch him in the face any less, though.

 

 

   “We’ve got terrorist cells crawling out of the woodwork that haven’t seen the light of day for years, all desperate to get a piece of this. The Council feels it’s too good an opportunity to pass up – ”

 

 

   “That’s no excuse,” Steve snaps,

 

 

   “That is no excuse for what you’re – ”

 

 

_Loki can eavesdrop on the world._

_He doesn’t need special clearance to listen in on whatever he wants to know._

**_Do you believe that I brought this on myself?_ **

 

 

   “Oh, God,” Steve breathes, feeling truly ill,

 

 

   “You did this. _You did this_ – you _purposely_ leaked information on what Loki’s built – ”

 

 

   The shame on Agent Coulsons suddenly-haggard face is all the confirmation Steve requires.

 

 

   “You sick bastards,” Steve says bitterly,

 

 

   “You are throwing a child to the wolves, all on the off chance that they’ll take enough time tearing him apart for you to tag them all. That’s it, isn’t it? And that’s what you need me for – to slow them down just enough that you can get as many as possible before it’s over and your little _window of opportunity_ closes until the next kid comes along who can do something interesting enough to get your target market excited enough to _bite_.”

 

 

   Agent Coulson closes his eyes against the reality of what he’s a part of, and it just makes Steve angrier.

 

 

   “It’s not about drawing attention to Loki – it’s about making it _look_ like you don’t want to draw attention to him. You’re doubling plays to muddy the waters alright, by going out of your way to make it look like you’re going out of your way to keep him safe. You fully expect this to go wrong – you’re _expecting_ it to go to hell so that you can swoop down from wherever it is you plan to hover until the main event and get yours while the getting’s good, you damn dirty vultures. It’s sick.”

 

 

   Steve shakes his head, furious with S.H.I.E.L.D but just as angry at himself for not seeing it sooner.

 

 

   “ _This_ is why you need someone who’ll sign off on taking him out if it looks like he’s about to fall into enemy hands,” he deduces, voice shaking slightly with the effort to not shout, and Agent Coulson finally meets Steve’s gaze again.

 

 

   “Captain Rogers, I won’t deny that there is truth to what you’ve said. What I will deny to my last breath is my direct involvement in and approval of what’s being perpetrated. The last thing I want is for anything to happen to Loki. I’ve known him since he was ten years old. The only reason I haven’t asked to be stripped of all responsibilities related to him is that I want to protect him. Loki’s safety is my first priority, regardless of the Council’s machinations. All I want is to ensure that no harm comes to him. I am asking you to trust my word on this matter,” he says, deeply serious and a little urgent, and Steve watches him with open contempt.

 

 

   “Not involved? Listen to yourself. You’re up to your neck in this. You’ve got no right to ask me to trust you, and you’ve got some nerve talking about how much Loki means to you. You ought to be ashamed,” he says harshly, and Agent Coulson flinches slightly.

 

 

   “ _I_ chose you for this job, Captain, because your record is impeccable – because you _are_ the best, but most importantly, because you are a good man. There have been precious few good men in Loki’s life, and you’re quite right, I’m not one of them, but that’s why it is vital that you believe me when I say that nothing – _nothing_ – is more important to me than safeguarding Loki. His skills – his _mind_ – can’t be allowed to go to waste. Now there’s nothing I can do about the Council’s decision or the Director’s refusal to recognise the harm that following this path will do, so I have done the only thing I was able to do under the circumstances. I found _you_ , and I offered you the chance to help me do what I cannot do alone because I hoped that you would see that it is both imperative that we succeed and that I am doing everything I can to ensure that success,” Agent Coulson says, quickly and quietly, eyes darting between Steve and the front of the craft as if worried that they will be overheard.

 

 

   “I have blocked _every_ attempt at placing an agent close to Loki for this because I can’t be sure that any one of the agents considered would hesitate to carry out the elimination order once they knew they were protected by the emergency authority clearance. _I_ pushed for a collaboration with the ordinary armed forces in finding the right match for Loki’s protective detail because I knew that not only would someone of that background have a greater understanding of the importance of Loki’s civilian status, but also there was a greater chance that they would reject the idea of fully complying with S.H.I.E.L.D’s views and mentality on these issues. I have secured the cooperation of two former field operatives, who are loyal solely to me, in helping to keep a round-the-clock watch on Loki from a distance, strictly off the record. _Everything_ I’ve done has been to keep Loki alive and as well as possible, and so far it’s succeeded, but I need you to believe that and to be on board with me for this, Captain, or everything falls apart. I don’t have _time_ to find another candidate like you, one I can trust not to let Loki down or bend to S.H.I.E.L.D’s will.”

 

 

   “I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you,” Steve snaps, and Agent Coulson smiles, wry and weary.

 

 

   “I think we both know you could throw me quite the distance given half a chance, Captain. That’s not what’s important here. Can you suspend disbelief enough to give me the benefit of the doubt when I say that I am 100% committed to keeping Loki safe and that that is my sole motivation?”

 

 

   Steve is heavily inclined towards his original impulse of just punching Coulson in the face – he doesn’t want to believe this man, this carefully blank person whom he felt from the beginning he couldn’t trust just as he felt right from the start that none of these S.H.I.E.L.D types could be trusted, but at the same time he’s known all along that he’d have to deal with unpleasant things to protect Loki, and protecting Loki is not up for discussion.

 

 

   Steve is not about to walk away from this – now more than ever he is certain that he made the right decision and that he was meant to take this on, that his mission is to do his utmost to keep Loki alive and well.

 

 

   It doesn’t matter whether he really believes Coulson, Steve decides. He’s not going to let anyone hurt Loki either way – whether or not he buys into what Coulson’s telling him doesn’t really figure. It’s just what he tells Coulson here and now that potentially matters later on.

 

 

   “I am not on your side,” he says at last,

 

 

   “Just Loki’s. If it turns out that you are as well, fine. But until I can be absolutely sure, and even after, I’m going to consider you a threat same as everyone else. Are we clear?”

 

 

   Agent Coulson looks relieved for just a moment and then his expression carefully smoothes over into mildness.

 

 

   “Perfectly, Captain. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

 

 

   “We’re done,” Steve informs him shortly, not waiting for a reply before he strides back to Loki and picks up the tablet, sitting down and touching Loki’s arm lightly.

 

 

   Loki’s eyes open immediately, focused on Steve, and he whispers,

 

 

   “Did you know there is an open communications device in Agent Coulson’s inside pocket?”

 

 

   Steve frowns, but Loki just watches him steadily.

 

 

   “I heard nothing I wasn’t already aware of,” he informs Steve, still in that scratchy barely-there voice, and Steve leans in and murmurs,

 

 

   “Loki – ” but Loki shakes his head, as if both the action and having to do it at all exhausts him.

 

 

   “It’s alright. I knew. I rejected the others under advisement. But... thank you. I know we made the right choice, now,” he sighs, and Steve suddenly feels completely heartbroken for this pale, beautiful, horribly burdened young thing, and has to fight the compulsion to just fold Loki in a big hug and shield him from the world and everything he knows.

 

 

   “Did you get _any_ sleep?” he asks instead, because he can’t focus on those feelings right now, has to just do the job, and Loki smiles, softly, as though he’s still too tired to really commit to the expression.

 

 

   “Maybe two hours? I woke up when you left. I wanted to know why,” he explains, and Steve marvels at how sensitive to propinquity Loki must be to wake up simply because Steve moved so they were no longer in even so brief a contact as they were before.

 

 

   “Well now you know. Like you know everything,” Steve remarks with a flicker of a smile, and Loki’s own smile grows sad.

 

 

   “No one ever really knows everything,” he comments hollowly, and Steve sighs.

 

 

   “I guess not.”

 

 

   In the background, Agent Hill announces that they’re beginning their descent, and Steve says,

 

 

   “You heard about the plan?”

 

 

   Loki nods.

 

 

   “It’s very _Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows_ ,” he remarks, and then, a little hesitantly,

 

 

   “Do you think it’ll work?”

 

 

   “We’ll make it work,” Steve says reassuringly, and Loki nods again, but his eyes remain troubled.

 

 

   Eight minutes later they’re on the ground, being shepherded into a building that looks like every other nondescript military base construction Steve’s seen in his time. The inside is very different – all stainless steel and exposed wiring and people walking around looking busy – but Agent Coulson leads them into a long room that comfortingly resembles ordinary army barracks, and beyond that a fairly characterless little room where Steve’s bag, which he last saw on base this morning and knows likely holds his belongings, is propped against a table stood against the far wall.

 

 

   “If you’d be so good as to change out of your uniform, Captain, then we’ll brief you both on what’s going to happen,” Agent Coulson says pleasantly, and Steve crosses the room to his bag and heaves it onto the table, rooting around in it for a change of clothes.

 

 

   He hears Coulson leave and then the sound of Loki placing his own bag on the floor next to the chair and sitting down heavily, which is quite a feat given that Loki doesn’t weigh a whole lot despite his height.

 

 

   “You tired?” Steve asks without turning around, making quick work of his outer layers and footwear, and Loki utters an odd, breathy sound that is neither confirmation nor denial and then says, a little shakily,

 

 

   “Yes. Please don’t speak to me for a minute.”

 

 

   Steve pauses in turning a white t-shirt the right way round and turns to look at Loki, who is sitting cross-legged on his chair and is resting his elbows on his knees as he pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes and slides his fingers into his hair.

 

 

   “Loki, are you okay?” he needs to know, and Loki makes a faint noise and then takes a deep breath and removes his hands.

 

 

   “ _Fine_. Please don’t speak to me.”

 

 

   Steve sort of wants to argue, because Loki’s clearly _not_ fine – his pupils are huge and there isn’t even a hint of colour left in his face anymore except for the darkening shadows beneath his eyes – but they don’t have time so instead he shrugs and turns back around and slides his t-shirt over his head quickly before bending over to put on his trousers and boots.

 

 

   When he’s straightened to throw his soothingly familiar old leather jacket on over the whole ensemble, he risks another quick look at Loki, whose gaze is now fixed on the opposite wall and whose hands are trembling as he rubs his temples slowly.

 

 

   “Loki...” he begins, not really sure where he’s going with it, but Loki immediately snaps,

 

 

   “ _Not now_ ,” without so much as looking in his direction, and Steve bites his tongue and stuffs the rest of his things into his bag, sealing it up and settling it over his shoulder.

 

 

   He approaches Loki cautiously, and leans down to pick up Loki’s discarded bag as well, but Loki unexpectedly flinches away violently as if startled by the sudden proximity.

 

 

   He’s up and standing and pressing his back to the wall too quickly for Steve to even try and help him when it appears he might stumble, but Steve reaches out anyway only for Loki to fold his arms across his chest and shake his head, eyes closed tightly.

 

 

   “I’m fine, I’m fine, just leave me alone,” he insists, and Steve withdraws, no idea what else to do for a Loki who suddenly seems so badly shaken and vulnerable, and so horribly upset with it.

 

 

   “I want to go home, let’s get this over with,” Loki mutters, striding to the door and letting himself out, and Steve just follows him silently, hoping that going along with instructions will appease whatever mood has taken hold of the kid slightly.

 

 

   Agent Coulson is right outside, and Loki falls into step behind him as they’re led to yet another room and met by Agent Hill who is looking tired and murderous and has one hand on her sidearm.

 

 

   “Right, so far so good!” Agent Coulson states optimistically,

 

 

   “The plan is to have the two of you drive home together, while three decoys leave here at the same time as you and travel to safe houses all within a certain radius of your destination to throw any potential observers off the scent. You’ll be shadowed the first part of the way by one of our field operatives who will be watching for anything out of the ordinary. Captain Rogers, your bike has been retrieved from base and is waiting for you downstairs. Loki, you have more than enough experience with all that, you’ll be fine. We’re only situated about an hour’s drive from you.”

 

 

   Steve was not expecting this, and he’s not sure he approves. Loki is evidently ready to drop – Steve hardly thinks he’s up to an hour’s worth of being a passenger.

 

 

   Loki, however, just nods unquestioningly, and Agent Hill says,

 

 

   “Come with me,” and leads them all the way outside where, indeed, as promised, Steve’s bike is parked, all shiny and ready to go. Oddly, it makes him both slightly emotional and a little irritated. He would have liked to be informed that this was among the ‘belongings’ that were being packed up and shipped out to him, but _damn_ is he ever glad to see it.

 

 

   Agent Coulson approaches, a helmet in each hand, and hands them over, explaining,

 

 

   “There’s a communicator in each one. Captain, yours is directly linked to us for reception – I’ll be tracking your progress personally and issuing directions as you go. Loki, yours is linked to Captain Rogers’. Any questions?”

 

 

   “Just one. Do you really think this is a good idea? After everything Loki’s been through today?” Steve asks quietly, and Agent Coulson opens his mouth to reply but Loki gets there first.

 

 

   “I once rode behind my brother for two solid hours with broken ribs and a fractured jaw, and I was a minor then. I’m not going to drop down dead from a little exhaustion. I want to go _home_ ,” he snarls, grabbing both his and Steve’s things and stalking over to demonstrate a now-unsurprising familiarity with stowing shit away in panniers, and Agent Coulson smiles wryly.

 

 

   “You’ve got a pleasant evening ahead of you, Captain,” he comments quietly,

 

 

   “This is only going to get worse. I recommend not speaking to him unless you have to and ignoring most of the attitude.”

 

 

   “By all means, continue labouring under the delusion that you and I are on friendly terms, Agent,” Steve snaps, unable to bear this attempt at levity at the expense of Loki’s looming breakdown and the prospect of Steve bearing the brunt of it,

 

 

   “All I want to hear over this - " he hefts the helmet

 

 

   " - are accurate directions.”

 

 

   As he turns away to go and attend to an increasingly impatient Loki, he hears Agent Coulson’s weary remark of,

 

 

   “Absolutely, Captain. I don’t think the excesses of attitude will prove problematic for you. Safe journey.”

 

 

   Steve _really_ doesn’t care. It’s been a long day, and he just wants to get Loki the hell away from these people and safely into his own bed so he can sleep off all this agitation and back-talk.

 

 

   They’re on the road inside two minutes, and Steve’s delighted to find that Loki really does know what he’s doing – holding on correctly and working with Steve all the way.

 

 

   It’s been a while since Steve rode with anyone – he’d forgotten how pleasant it can be when your partner is paying attention and has some experience – and he’s just relaxing into things when the aggravatingly tinny voice of Agent Coulson crackles into life next to his ear and instructs him to make a turn.

 

 

   There is only one bend in the road. If Steve doesn’t abide by it they’ll be on unpaved ground.

 

 

   It looks as though Agent Coulson is taking his job seriously, at least. It’s just a pity that Steve really doesn’t want to hear his voice and that he seems to feel the need to issue instructions which would be obvious to even a complete idiot, which at this point is sawing steadily away at Steve’s last nerve.

 

 

   They’re halfway there – information which Steve possesses courtesy of Agent Coulson’s repeated assurances – when Steve hears Loki in his other ear, quiet and sincere.

 

 

   “ _I’m sorry I was rude to you. I apologise._ ”

 

 

   Steve reaches down and pats Loki’s hands where they’re clasped around Steve’s waist, and then returns his full attention to the road.

 

 

   The rest of the journey stretches out in front of Steve as smoothly as Loki's voice from there.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept Plan = In the context of joint operation planning level 3 planning detail, an operation plan in an abbreviated format that may require considerable expansion or alteration to convert it into a complete operation plan or operation order. Also called CONPLAN.


	5. Unanticipated Target

 

 

 

   To Steve’s great surprise – which he will admit at this point in the day is probably fuelled by latent irritation-based sarcastic impulses – Loki does not in fact reside in a replica of the Addams Family mansion or indeed even on a street with a name that is in any way morbid.

 

 

   Instead, it would appear that he lives in an extensive structure which upon first glance is vaguely art deco in a frill-less and functional sort of way, until Steve decides that it might in fact be a repurposed warehouse of the kind which gets done up for the consumption of the ludicrously wealthy younger set of New York snobs who don’t mind paying a fortune for a fancy apartment reasonably adjacent to their offices from which they can conduct the majority of their weekend affairs between networking dates and launches of things they had no personal hand in creating.

 

 

   Under instruction and accompanied by a reassuring ‘all clear’ from Coulson, Steve pulls up in front of the building.

 

 

   “ _I’ll take it from here_ ,” Loki murmurs through the comm., adding,

 

 

   “ _See the double doors to the right? Basement parking. Take us there._ ”

 

 

   Steve complies unquestioningly, and is not the least surprised when the mentioned doors open to indeed reveal a ramp going down to a basement parking area. The doors also close behind them with a pleasantly solid sound, and Loki remarks,

 

 

   “ _I had those reinforced last year, you’ll be pleased to know. Just park wherever._ ”

 

 

   Once that has been accomplished and they’re finally disembarked and standing and taking their helmets off, Steve says,

 

 

   “I expected this to be larger. Where’s the rest of the space?”

 

 

   “I sectioned off the rest because I didn’t need it for parking. I own the building,” Loki informs him, placing his no longer needed helmet on the floor and smoothing back his hair, and Steve hangs his own helmet from the handlebar closest to him and starts removing their bags from storage.

 

 

   “Do you have the place on timed lighting or something?” he inquires as Loki reaches out to be given his bag, and Loki shrugs.

 

 

   “I can set it up remotely if I want it. I always thought it was a waste of electricity.”

 

 

   He slings his bag over his shoulder and starts walking to what looks like a solid steel door set in the middle of the wall, and Steve follows, intrigued to see the rest of the place. Loki opens the door and walks right in, calling,

 

 

   “Darling, I’m home!”

 

 

   Steve is two steps behind him and opening his mouth on a puzzled,

 

 

   “What?” when Loki turns and very casually states,

 

 

   “I may have forgotten to tell you that I have a house-sitter.”

 

 

   “ ** _What?_** ” Steve demands, but Loki seems oblivious to his angry question despite the volume of it, and simply turns around again just in time to enjoy the view of a very attractive young woman descending a glass staircase to their right – Steve would not have guessed that Loki would appreciate the kind of minimalistic theme this place has going on – who stops abruptly on the last step and snaps,

 

 

   “Loki, who the hell is _that_?”

 

 

   Loki does not appear at all concerned with the tone she’s employing, and very calmly says,

 

 

   “You don’t need to pretend, you’ve had plenty of time.” The young woman just crosses her arms and glares at Steve, who feels entitled to ask,

 

 

   “What’s going on here and what are you talking about? And who _is_ this?”

 

 

   “This is my house-sitter and dear friend, whom S.H.I.E.L.D does not need to know about,” Loki says vaguely, as though it’s the least important thing to happen all day, and things fall into place in Steve’s mind with disquieting ease.

 

 

   “This wouldn’t happen to be Sigyn, would it?” he inquires, perhaps a touch harshly, and the young woman claps her hands slowly, a deeply unaffected look on her lovely face.

 

 

   “Well done, Captain Rogers. Congrats on not being a complete moron,” she says flatly, and Loki frowns.

 

 

   “Be nice,” he cautions,

 

 

   “I’ve had a bad day. Captain, this _is_ my friend Sigyn. If you make any attempt to inform S.H.I.E.L.D that she is here, I guarantee it will be fruitless, and that you will come to regret it.”

 

 

   The young woman smiles coldly, and then unfolds her arms and walks towards them, reaching for Loki.

 

 

   “Are you alright? I know what happened,” she asks softly, taking Loki’s hands when she’s near enough, and Loki sighs.

 

 

   “Fine. Just tired,” he replies shortly, and Steve finally overrides the shock of being both threatened and sassed by these two oddities.

 

 

   “Hold up. Both of you, just stop _right_ there. How do you know who I am _or_ what happened earlier, why in God’s name should I take anything you threaten me with seriously, and what the hell are you actually doing here? And Loki, at no point did you think it might be a good idea to let me know that you let other people use your home when you’re not here and that they might be here when you got back?” Steve demands, having to tamp down the urge to shout when Sigyn raises an eyebrow at Loki as if she’s being gravely inconvenienced by Steve’s very existence and wants an immediate explanation for this bullshit.

 

 

   “I don’t have to talk to you,” she states, her tone implying that she would find the activity distasteful in the extreme at any rate and that she is rapidly revising her earlier comment on the state of Steve’s intelligence.

 

 

   “I can do what I like with my own property,” Loki adds, as if offended that Steve is prying into his personal business and questioning Loki’s judgment.

 

 

   Steve can _feel_ his patience stretching to breaking point and visualise the second it snaps, which coincides neatly with Sigyn commenting,

 

 

   “Are we done here? Loki and I have things to discuss.”

 

 

   And _there_ it is.

 

 

   “You and Loki are both going to plant yourselves on that couch right there and answer my damn questions, Miss Mouthy, or you can look forward to being escorted from the premises, and you – ” he points at Loki,

 

 

   “You can look forward to being tossed into bed to sleep off the attitude, because I am done putting up with it, and you owe me a decent turn. You’re not the only one who’s had a rough day.”

 

 

   The glare Sigyn aims at Steve is truly poisonous, but she pulls Loki with her to sit on the likely ridiculously expensive black leather sofa, and puts her arm around him protectively, muttering,

 

 

   “Like you’re not getting paid more than enough for this.”

 

 

   “I am getting paid to keep Loki alive and get between him and anyone who wants to hurt him. I am _not_ getting paid to deal with rude little cyber-terrorists; in fact, I’d probably get a bonus for turning you in. There are a lot of people who’d like to keep tabs on you,” Steve says ruthlessly, and her glare turns freezing.

 

 

   “Don’t you threaten me!” she hisses, and Steve shrugs.

 

 

   “You threatened me first. Now; why are you here, and why was I not informed that you would be?”

 

 

   “Jörmungandr needs to be fed, and Loki likes to come home to someone because it’s nicer that way,” Sigyn grates, Loki just nodding to corroborate her story. He’s not even looking at Steve, gaze instead trained somewhere on the glass coffee table in front of he and Sigyn from the other side of which Steve is stood facing them with his arms crossed.

 

 

   “Feed what?” Steve asks, and Sigyn rolls her eyes again.

 

 

   “Jörmungandr, Loki’s snake. He’s in a terrarium upstairs,” she explains.

 

 

   Of course. Loki’s exactly the sort of well-adjusted pet- and home-owner who’d have a snake and enlist a cyber-terrorist friend to house-sit for him and keep an eye on the creature.

 

 

   It all makes _perfect_ sense.

 

 

   Steve is manfully resisting the urge to rub his temples and start yelling.

 

 

   “Sure. Fine. And I wasn’t told because..?”

 

 

   “I don’t talk about Sigyn anywhere near _them_ ,” Loki intones, and Sigyn leans into him and kisses his cheek.

 

 

   “Loki doesn’t want them to get me because he’s wonderful,” she says, almost as though it’s a challenge, and Steve sighs.

 

 

   “Right. And you know about me how exactly?”

 

 

   The look Sigyn levels at him is truly contemptuous, but when she speaks she addresses Loki instead.

 

 

   “He knows what we can do, right? Why is he asking me – ”

 

 

   “He knows what _I_ can do – ”

 

 

   “You didn’t explain to him how we can – ”

 

 

   “I told him it’s all available to find – ”

 

 

   “Well then why is he asking – ”

 

 

   “I don’t – ”

 

 

   “Oh Christ, he’s not one of those tech-impaired types is he?”

 

 

   “Both of you _shut up!_ ” Steve shouts, incredibly annoyed at their rapid-fire exchange and unable to avoid noticing how Loki looks more exhausted by the minute.

 

 

   “Don’t tell me what to do!” Sigyn returns, looking murderous, and Loki looks up at Steve darkly.

 

 

   “If you _ever_ say that to me again, I will kill you in your sleep,” he spits, and even Sigyn turns to give him a wide-eyed look of stunned trepidation.

 

 

   “ _Sweetie_...” she says, trailing off, voice hushed, but Loki is ignoring her and continues staring at Steve.

 

 

   It’s the invasive, operating-theatre gaze again, and it is _excruciatingly_ uncomfortable.

 

 

   Steve is willing to concede that he perhaps deserves it, but that does not in any way make him feel better about what Loki has said.

 

 

   “Okay. Okay, that’s – ” it is absolutely _not_ okay and it’s probably something they need to address at a later time when everyone isn’t quite so wound up and emotionally drained, but Steve doesn’t go there.

 

 

   “I apologise. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I didn’t mean it. It’s been a really long day. Sigyn, should I assume that you know all there is to know for the same reasons Loki did?” Steve asks, his reasonable tone forced but steady, and Sigyn nods, putting her other arm around Loki and hugging him for a moment.

 

 

   Loki does not reciprocate, but he does drop his gaze back to the table.

 

 

   “Okay. Great. Well, I’m not S.H.I.E.L.D’s biggest fan right now, so I see no reason why they need to know that you’re here. Do you know how long you’re staying?” Steve inquires, and Sigyn looks at him blankly.

 

 

   “Until tomorrow. Early morning. I have things to get back to,” she says vaguely, and Steve nods.

 

 

   “That’s fine,” he acknowledges, and Sigyn frowns at him – the mildest expression of distaste she’s treated Steve to so far – and then turns to Loki and quietly says,

 

 

   “Come with me, sweetie,” and stands, pulling Loki up and putting her arm around him again, leading him away and up the glass staircase.

 

 

   Steve waits until they’re gone to drop into the unexpectedly comfortable black leather armchair directly behind him and put his hands over his face with a muted groan, concentrating on focusing his breathing for a few minutes.

 

 

   This, he did not need.

 

 

   This is an unanticipated and unwanted development which Steve could very happily have done without.

 

 

   He could also very happily have done without being exposed to Loki’s deeply disturbing reaction to his words, and he has to work hard to expend the last shreds of his naturally optimistic nature for the day in attempting to look at it as a learning experience which will stand him in good stead at a later date.

 

 

   It doesn’t really help.

 

 

   What helps even less is the fact that he only gets roughly ten minutes to himself before Sigyn is coming back down the staircase and seating herself opposite him. Steve forces himself to sit up straight and pay attention to her.

 

 

   She is a beautiful girl. Steve would estimate that she’s perhaps 21 years old. Her eyes are large and intelligent, the shade a deep blue. She has very long, thick hair, richly golden in a way that makes Steve think of autumn and the faintly melancholy scent of decaying leaves under first frost. The overhead lighting brings out a coppery undertone to the stuff that glints like sparks flying from a burning log in the heart of a well-fed fire.

 

 

   Steve is in no way attracted to her personally, but he will admit that, together, she and Loki are uncommonly lovely. He wonders if Loki’s aware of that at all.

 

 

   “You read Loki’s file,” Sigyn states quietly – pure fact, they both know this – and then she leans forward, clasping her hands together and watching Steve critically as she says,

 

 

   “So I can either conclude that you are an absolute idiot, or a complete tool. Which is it?”

 

 

   “Excuse me?”

 

 

   “Telling Loki to shut up, after having read his file. Are you a purposely hurtful bastard, or are you really just that stupid?” Sigyn replies, sounding as though she suspects Steve of being obtuse in an attempt to annoy her.

 

 

   “What are you talking about?” Steve demands, hovering on the brink of just giving in and capitulating to the strong, insistent desire to hate this young woman with a dedicated passion.

 

 

   “The _file_ ,” she repeats,

 

 

   “Did you not read all of it? Because if you did, and you think it’s okay to talk to him like that anyway, you can scratch worrying about being murdered in your bed. I will get to you first.”

 

 

   “All of it?” Steve asks, nonplussed,

 

 

   “Look, I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about.”

 

 

   “Right. So you just skipped everything to do with his childhood traumas and skimmed past _all_ the details of his emancipation trial and went straight to the current issues, because it’s not like anything else was _important_ or _relevant_ ,” she says derisively, and Steve finds he can’t meet her eyes.

 

 

   Mostly because she’s _right_.

 

 

   “If you’re referring to the in-depth reports on the abuse Loki suffered at the hands of his adoptive family, then no. I didn’t – couldn’t – go into that,” Steve replies stiffly, horribly ashamed at what he’s being made to confess to and equally upset that his skipping those parts may have led to him inadvertently prompting Loki’s earlier response by failing to properly inform himself.

 

 

   Steve didn’t fulfil the terms of his engagement. He failed to equip himself with all the knowledge potentially necessary to fully get to grips with his assignment – and that has led to this. Steve neglected his duty because he couldn’t handle certain parts of it, and it has led to a substantial blunder which may have completely negated all the trust he has established between himself and Loki. It’s unacceptable. It’s _painful_.

 

 

   “What – you couldn’t access them? Weren’t they given to you? They should have been in the package,” Sigyn insists, sounding perturbed, and Steve shakes his head.

 

 

   “No, you misunderstand – I _couldn’t_ go into that. I couldn’t look at it. I couldn’t make myself do it. I don’t expect you to understand. I had just saved his life and they wanted me to sit down and read about all kinds of awful things that happened to him when he was little because no one was taking care of him properly, and _I just couldn’t **do** it_ ,” Steve states heavily.

 

 

   “You’re a career soldier, and you couldn’t read those reports?” Sigyn asks, disbelief and surprise evident in her tone, and Steve just keeps staring at the floor.

 

 

   “Like I said; I don’t expect you to understand. That – it is _nothing_ like what I’ve been trained to do – what I _have_ done. What he went through goes against everything I know to be right, and I couldn’t deal with proof of the reality of it so soon after the attempt on him. I _am_ a career soldier – we’re taught that our only purpose is to defend the civilian population against threat. I don’t know what kind of experience you have with people in my line of work, but we don’t go in for beating up kids. I don’t know a single serviceman who’d be able to stomach delving into reports like the ones I was given on Loki without some serious mental preparation, and I had them in hand not five minutes after someone tried to kill him when all I’d been told was that he was emancipated from his family after _allegations_ of abuse.”

 

 

   Steve looks Sigyn squarely in the eyes and very deliberately says,

 

 

   “Excuse me if that goes against whatever idea you have of career soldiers as callous, ignorant baby-killers, but no, I could not look at x-rays of a child beaten by his own parents or read detailed reports of just how badly he was treated by the people meant to love and cherish him unconditionally.”

 

 

   Sigyn doesn’t speak, just sits there, wide-eyed and pale, and Steve takes a deep breath and continues,

 

 

   “Now, I’m willing to accept that I should have looked them over more closely, and that due to my oversight I may be unaware of certain details that are likely very relevant to who Loki is as a person and how best to interact with him to avoid anything like what happened earlier, but since I didn’t read the reports and don’t plan to do so tonight, maybe you could briefly fill me in on why Loki reacted the way he did and how to fix it.”

 

 

   Sigyn just keeps looking at him for a few moments, as if so overwhelmed she cannot speak, but when she does, the first words that tumble out of her mouth are,

 

 

   “Thor’s friends call him ‘Choky’.”

 

 

   Steve frowns and parts his lips to ask what the hell she’s talking about, but she waves a quick hand as if to erase what she just said and hurries on.

 

 

   “Thor’s friends nicknamed Loki that because when he was younger, he would talk a lot when he got excited about something or learnt something new or had a new project in the works, and it would annoy his - his adoptive father, so he’d stuff a handkerchief in Loki’s mouth and make him sit in a corner if he didn’t shut up the first time he was told to. Thor was allowed to do it, too, even in front of his friends, as long as their – _his_ mother – never found out. When Loki got a little older, he’d struggle and pull out the handkerchief so they’d duct-tape his mouth closed as well, and sometimes Loki would have panic attacks and wouldn’t be able to breathe. At some point, it escalated so they didn’t bother with any of that, and they’d just hit him to make him shut up. He had to go in for stitches several times. You can never, _ever_ tell him to shut up,” she says in a rush, eyes sad and agitated, and Steve closes his eyes to compose himself.

 

 

   “I should have known that,” he says, a little bitter and deeply disappointed in himself.

 

 

   “You can’t fix this. He won’t believe you if you promise you won’t do it again, and he doesn’t care about apologies because they’re just words and people lie to get what they want from others. All he cares about is established precedent, and once you’ve screwed up and put something over the line, it stays on your permanent record forever,” Sigyn tells him, the sadness creeping into her tone, and Steve nods and looks at her.

 

 

   “I am still going to apologise. Loki deserves to know that I’ve been made aware of the problem and that I intend to work to make it right. It’ll just go on the never-ending list of issues we’re going to need to go over tomorrow,” Steve says wearily, and Sigyn watches him closely.

 

 

   “You should probably get some rest too,” she says slowly,

 

 

   “You’re not that long out of recovery.”

 

 

   Steve rises and looks down on her blankly. This feels like the hundredth time today he’s had to tell someone who knows all about it already that he’s perfectly healthy now and suffering no ill after-effects from his injury, and the monotony and sameness of it is oddly steadying.

 

 

   “I’m fine. Fully recovered, just like it says in my file,” he states, and moves to pick up his bag from where he dumped it behind the sofa. Sigyn doesn’t move or make a sound again until he’s almost at the staircase and then she very softly says,

 

 

   “Good to know. By the way... How’s your friend doing?”

 

 

   It’s like being kicked in the stomach, but Steve manages through gritted teeth to ask,

 

 

   “Which one?”

 

 

   “The other intelligent, vitally important, dark-haired individual in your life,” Sigyn replies easily,

 

 

   “Oh, wait – that’s a recurring theme. Let’s go with the one currently hospitalised.”

 

 

   Steve turns enough that he can see that she hasn’t moved at all, and takes a second to repress the rage and uneasiness he feels.

 

 

   “I’m sure you know the answer to that. Why are you asking me?” he demands, and she does turn, leaning her elbows on the back of the sofa, and fixing him with a determined stare.

 

 

   “You’re drawn to a very definite type of person, Steve Rogers. Around you, those people tend not to flourish. I may not be able to discuss Loki’s childhood abuse without getting emotional, and I may not be able to hurt you physically, but I am stronger than you think and I have other talents. Loki means a great deal to me. If I think for a moment that you’re insincere in your assertions that you want to do right by him, or that you’re going to hurt him in any way, I will destroy you,” she says, utterly composed, completely confident, and intensely unnerving.

 

 

   “It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. I believe that you’re essentially a good person and that you’re committed to doing your utmost for Loki, but he is fragile and his personal resources are stretched thin right now for obvious reasons. His filters aren’t what they could be. He deserves and needs to be treated with patience and kindness, and to have his personhood respected. He’s not a freak, and he’s not a lab-rat. He’s a very special, sensitive, pleasant human being, and I value his friendship highly. I make it my business to look out for him.”

 

 

   Steve meets her gaze calmly for a few more seconds before he says,

 

 

   “That seems fair. I’m happy to know that Loki has people like you on his side.”

 

 

   The smile that spreads over Sigyn’s face is stunning, and she rises gracefully, walking towards Steve as she says,

 

 

   “Glad we’re on the same page. I’ll show you where things are.”

 

 

   “Thank you,” Steve replies cautiously, partly because he recognises a single-minded, dangerously motivated individual when he meets one, but also because he’d really like to keep things at least civil between he and Sigyn until she leaves. She is important to Loki, but she’s a good ally to have on hand for Steve as well.

 

 

   The upstairs is very spaciously laid out, and the overall theme of minimalism and clean deco-reminiscent lines is consistent throughout. Loki’s door is pointed out with the comment,

 

 

   “The entire thing is basically secured like a panic room, and he has a single-purpose elevator that leads to the basement. I tucked him in myself, he’ll be out for at least ten hours after a day like this one now that he’s home.”

 

 

   “He sleeps better here?” Steve inquires, and Sigyn nods.

 

 

   “He feels safer. There aren’t so many variables to contend with, he knows what everything he can hear is, and he knows his security systems work because he designed and tested them himself,” she says simply.

 

 

   The room directly opposite has been designated Steve’s room by virtue of it being directly opposite, and the choice has not been contested because the room Sigyn usually uses is the one next to Loki’s. Steve approves of the layout of things. It’s practical, efficient, and Steve has his own bathroom which for a few seconds causes him to hear the swelling of angelic music and baby’s laughter as he drifts into a glorious fantasy concerning hot showers.

 

 

   He dumps his things at the foot of the bed and lets Sigyn show him the rest of the upstairs – there are seven bedrooms all told, of varying size – and then lead him back down to show him the main living room; the airy space at the foot of the staircase where they had their opening argument.

 

 

   It is directly adjacent to the open-plan kitchen which is all lustrous black marble and stainless steel appliances and opens on to a dining room that looks totally unused. Beyond that is a second, slightly lowered living room with an open fireplace.

 

 

   All in all, everything is immaculate and looks like something out of one of those thick, glossy magazines which exist to make other people feel bad that their own home can never look as un-lived in or professionally decorated and have ads on every other page taunting those same readers with things and people who promise to be able to make that dream happen for them if only they can stump up an obscene amount of money.

 

 

   It couldn’t be farther from what Steve has been visualising, and he’s frankly stunned that Loki can stand to live in what feels like a cross between an exhibition home and a massively upscale designer refrigerator.

 

 

   “There’s a basement, too,” Sigyn comments,

 

 

   “It’s pretty big, but only Loki’s allowed down there. It’s where he works most of the time.”

 

 

   “He mentioned that,” Steve replies, trying to ignore the weird feeling that he should be wearing another shirt because he’s not actually _cold_ , it’s just this _place_.

 

 

   “You look uncomfortable,” Sigyn observes, in a way that leads Steve to believe that his discomfort does not entirely displease her.

 

 

   “I’m fine,” he tells her, although he doesn’t bother to smile.

 

 

   “You were expecting something else, weren’t you? This isn’t Edward Gorey enough, is that it?” she asks, perching herself on the black marble kitchen island that looks as though it was installed yesterday and hasn’t yet been so much as breathed on. Steve is struck by a perverse urge to tell her to get off it.

 

 

   “It’s not what I was expecting,” he confirms,

 

 

   “But I’ve barely known Loki 24 hours. If this is how he wants to live, I really don’t have any reason to question that.”

 

 

   “It’s cold and impersonal and you hate it,” Sigyn states, as though summing up something Steve just said, and he blinks at her in surprise, but she goes on.

 

 

   “Loki spends most of his time in his room or in the basement – that’s where he works and keeps anything important. The rest of his living space needs to be as de-cluttered and functional as possible in order for him to feel that he can relax. With all the things vying for his attention in his head all the time, all the stuff he can’t ignore or shut down or get away from, is it really so weird that he’d want the basic configuration of his home to be as stripped-down as possible?”

 

 

   She doesn’t wait for an answer, just kicks off and jumps down off the island, walking into the main living room as she continues,

 

 

   “Imagine absorbing absolutely everything that goes on around you – every detail of everything anyone says or does, everything you see and hear – and not being able to switch it off. When I’m hyper-focused, I tap into something like that, but for Loki, it’s a constant state of mind. Even distractions aren’t real distractions because he’s multi-tracking everything anyway – force his focus onto something else, all you’re doing is switching lanes, you’re not taking his mind off the unwanted thought-pattern. It’s exhausting. It’s constant over-stimulation, only Loki’s so clever, it takes a while for it to wear him down properly and his tolerance is higher. If that was your life,” she says, turning around and gesturing to the clean, white walls and the tall ceiling and the soft white light of the steel-fixed overhead lamps,

 

 

   “If that was your life, would you want your living space to demand your attention, or would you want it to be somewhere clinical and free from extraneous detail so that you could just let go mentally? This place isn’t cold or impersonal – it’s a perfect reflection of what Loki needs the non-essential areas of his home to be.”

 

 

   Standing there, on the wide, shining black tiles of the floor which Steve suspects may be polished granite, with her arms wide, Sigyn looks a lot like an image of an old Earth-Goddess, only she’s wearing black cargo trousers and an indigo-blue draped-affair with long sleeves which throws things off a little.

 

 

   What she’s saying makes perfect sense, though.

 

 

  “I get it. Thank you,” he tells her, and he sincerely means it. At this point any insight into Loki is helpful, and any help in how to look at spending protracted periods of time in this place is also very welcome.

 

 

   “Do you stay here when he’s home a lot?”

 

 

   Sigyn shrugs and folds her arms.

 

 

   “When I need to – sometimes when Loki asks me to. That usually coincides with one of his brothers visiting. Loki likes to have a buffer in those situations,” she explains, and Steve nods.

 

 

   “And what do you think of them?”

 

 

   “Did you not read their files either?” Sigyn asks flatly, eyebrow raised, and Steve stares at her.

 

 

   “ _You_ tampered with those?” he demands, and she tilts her head and smiles a slight but entirely self-satisfied smile.

 

 

   “I may have done. If you got as far as the entries on the shit-heads who adopted Loki and then let him live a lie while abusing him, there’d have been some interesting tid-bits for your consideration,” she replies a little smugly, and Steve has to smile at that.

 

 

   “I look forward to reading them, then. But in all honesty, what can you tell me about the brothers?”

 

 

   “Hǫðr’s a sweetheart who’d rather die than tell anyone anything personal about Loki, Balder’s an idiot but he means well and everyone’s in love with him which can be useful, and Thor just shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near Loki and neither should anyone he knows, especially that two-faced slag he claims not to be involved with,” Sigyn says directly, and Steve nods.

 

 

   “Did you put that note in the column next to her name, or..?”

 

 

   “ _No_ , surprisingly, even the government’s not stupid enough to overlook what an untrustworthy backstabbing cunt she is,” Sigyn states with overdone brightness,

 

 

   “But my personal advice to you would be to disregard any positive thing anyone ever says about her, and to treat her like the threat to Loki’s health and sanity that she is, and by that I mean recommend she be killed if she ever tries to contact Loki, and shoot her in the face if she ever gets close enough to him for that to be a viable course of action. If you’re not comfortable with that because she’s a girl, hit me up anytime, I would just love to help out.”

 

 

   “Noted,” Steve says quickly, and not just because he’s getting a little freaked out at how sincerely Sigyn has it out for this individual.

 

 

   “Anything else you can tell me?”

 

 

   “The kitchen’s well-stocked for now, you’ll be okay for a few days,” she replies,

 

 

   “Loki will take care of feeding Jörmungandr but depending on how long you stay, you might have to go on a bunny-run with him. Try not to look horrified when he mentions it, and don’t get attached to anything he brings home for that purpose. Also, don’t make a fuss if Loki introduces you to him, just remember that he’s important to Loki and bear over with it.”

 

 

   “I’ll keep that in mind. Any other tips?” Steve asks, and Sigyn shrugs.

 

 

   “Treat Loki the way you’d treat anyone else – common courtesy, no patronising, try not to ask stupid questions or criticise his work,” she lists off, and Steve frowns.

 

 

   “Stupid questions?”

 

 

   “Yes. You’re not an idiot, so you shouldn’t have to, but it bears mentioning. I also wouldn’t try and mess with Loki’s eating or sleeping habits – he’s not a baby, let him get on with what he does,” Sigyn says, as if it’s the most obvious, easily-followed instruction in the world.

 

 

   Clearly she hasn’t understood the extent of Steve’s sincere desire to help others be the best they can be.

 

 

   “You don’t think he’d benefit from remembering to eat regularly and keep normal hours?” he asks carefully, and Sigyn graces him with a flat look which perfectly communicates that she thinks he is being an imbecile.

 

 

   “Normal? Who the hell gets to decide what’s _normal_? You know, Loki mentioned that the two of you had talked about that – he said you weren’t so tied up on how ‘normal’ is what the majority have accepted or are forced to accept because society’s dictated to them that they must. You don’t get to say one thing to him and act on another – that shit’s not going to fly. All it’s going to do is make you look flaky, and I’m not even going to get into everything that’s wrong in you thinking that you have any right to try and change Loki because you assume you know what’s best for him. He’s perfectly capable of making his own decisions and taking care of his own needs. Unless he hasn’t eaten or slept in more than twenty hours, don’t interfere. That’s _not_ your place,” she says firmly.

 

 

   “With all due respect, Miss – do you have a last name?”

 

 

   “No. Not for our purposes. Think of me as being like Cher – all-powerful Fairy Godmother. Or, rather, Godmother to all Fairies. This special fairy in particular,” Sigyn states blankly, and Steve folds his arms to try and hold in the excess frustration and continues in as neutral a tone as he can muster.

 

 

   “Right. Well, Miss Sigyn, it’s really not for you to say what my place is in all this. Tomorrow, once Loki’s feeling up to it, he and I will be going over all the ground rules and if there’s anything he’s not comfortable with or would rather I didn’t do, I’ll be more than happy to hear it from him.”

 

 

   Sigyn’s smile is cold, and so is her voice when she very clearly says,

 

 

   “It _is_ my place, because _you_ are a temporary fixture in Loki’s life. A tourist. And once you are gone, I am going to be here to help reassemble him and his life, so I’ll tell you again. If you overstep your boundaries or you try and change Loki – if you break him, upset him at all, _hurt_ him – I will take away everything you love, until your life is a barren, empty wasteland of ruined hopes and spent dreams. And I’ll enjoy it.”

 

 

   Well, at least she’s committed to doing the best she can by Loki.

 

 

   It doesn’t change how deeply disquieting she is, or how disturbed Steve is by the fact that he genuinely doesn’t doubt that she has both the ability and the will to do exactly what she promises.

 

 

   “Do you know that you’re an incredibly unsettling person?” Steve asks, regretting it immediately – or at least until a pleasant, softer smile steals over Sigyn’s face and she hitches a shoulder as if honestly flattered.

 

 

   “I’ve been told,” she replies, clearly proud of this fact, and Steve has to admit that however odd and scary she is, he sort of admires her for just owning it.

 

 

   “Well, I can respect that, but it’d be really great if you could not threaten me anymore until tomorrow. How does that sound?”

 

 

   “Your terms are fair. To make this work, I suggest you just go to bed; you’re looking a little tired and I’m sure you have a lot to think about,” Sigyn agrees, sounding reasonable in the way only really crazy people ever manage to.

 

 

   “That’s... about right. Sleep well, Miss. Thank you for everything you’ve told me,” Steve says politely, backing away towards the staircase, and Sigyn smiles.

 

 

   “My pleasure,” she beams.

 

 

   Steve doesn’t doubt it for a moment.

 

 

   He’s up the stairs and has his hand on the door handle to his room when he’s struck by the urge to go and check on Loki to make sure he’s safe and well, but while he’s deliberating poking his head in just to see, movement to his left nearly shocks him out of his skin.

 

 

   It’s only Sigyn, of course, but her eyes are serious and she shakes her head as she mouths ‘ _don’t_ ’, passing by Loki’s door without so much as glancing at it, and Steve takes the hint and ducks into his own room quickly.

 

 

   The stillness that wraps itself around him once the door is closed almost like a blow to the head.

 

 

   A quick inspection reveals nothing out of the ordinary other than how obvious Steve’s fatigue is becoming – blurring and unevenly focused vision, faintly aching muscles, mild but unfounded irritation; all the classic hallmarks of a period of constant, wearying tension fading into the need to tune out, entrench, and regroup on all fronts – but it’s with some slight niggling regret that he decides to forgo a shower and just strips down and collapses on the bed.

 

 

   The ceiling is blissfully blank and Steve considers that there is some merit to Sigyn’s explanation of an over-worked mind needing somewhere lacking in stimulants to recuperate.

 

 

   He’s asleep before he’s even really finished the thought.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unanticipated target = A target of opportunity that was unknown or not expected to exist in the operational environment.


	6. Exploitation

 

 

 

   Steve’s internal clock wakes him promptly at 06:00 as always, seconds before his alarm was set to go off as a precaution, and he leaves the comfort of bed immediately to embark upon his usual morning routine. He starts by stretching thoroughly and is pleased to find that there is no residual stiffness anywhere despite yesterday’s constant tension and all the tedious travelling. Then he runs through some fairly basic exercises to kick-start his system and wake himself up the rest of the way – he still isn’t over just being able to use his body normally again and it propels him into an instantly more positive mood – followed by a refreshing ten-minute shower and then taking care of the grooming and various other steps that conclude all bathroom-related business.

 

 

   As he’s rooting through his bag to find something to wear it again occurs to Steve that he is a lot less... colourful... than Loki’s usual set, though perhaps that’s not quite the word he wants since they all seem to stick to the darker hues. Eye-catching, perhaps. Still, it’s just a fleeting thought, and Steve makes a quick mental note to do some laundry later on as he pulls a t-shirt over his head.

 

 

   He finds himself repositioning his tags with one hand and idly wondering whether to keep them on or not, but ultimately he decides that technically, he’s on the job, and that it just wouldn’t feel right to remove them from his person. It’s not like they’re massively conspicuous or anything, and they’re a nice reminder to him of who he is and what he’s doing here.

 

 

   The thought leads into a musing on whether S.H.I.E.L.D issues ID-tags for its personnel, and Steve indulges in the uncharitable thought that more likely they’re branded like cattle or subjected to barcode-tattooing or micro-chipping or some such.

 

 

   It is with the little smile that this idea brings to his face that he exits his room and makes his way downstairs, where he isn’t all that surprised to see Sigyn in the kitchen once again perched on the island, doing something on a very high-tech phone and sipping coffee from a cup with a diameter larger than the span of her own palm.

 

 

   Her hair is coiled into heavy braids that vaguely remind Steve of something called _Game of Thrones_ which he’s scanned past on several occasions while searching for the news and which is advertised heavily on a few of the major entertainment channels, and she’s wearing a soft-looking grey wool wrap with a hood and deep blue jeans. As far as Steve can tell she’s not wearing makeup, and on the whole she seems a great deal more relaxed and approachable than she did last night.

 

 

   “Good morning, Captain Rogers,” she greets him pleasantly, looking up and smiling, and while the expression looks entirely genuine, Steve knows not to take that to mean that there is nothing else going on.

 

 

   “And to you, Miss,” he replies smoothly. An honest to God dimple appears in one of her cheeks as she says,

 

 

   “Call me Sigyn. The cups are in the cupboard above the machine and the coffee’s fresh, help yourself.”

 

 

   “It’s Steve,” he tells her, following her instructions and preparing a cup for himself, the domesticity of the act as well as the uplifting aroma of good coffee granting him the clarity to continue being nice despite whatever differences they may have had the last time they spoke, but she just sets her cup down and hops off the island, placing her phone on the surface.

 

 

   “Steve,” she repeats, giving him the once-over but managing not to make it look overt or judgmental,

 

 

   “I hoped I’d catch you this morning before I left.”

 

 

   “Why’s that?” Steve asks, immediately on his guard but doing his best to keep it from his tone, and Sigyn folds her hands together and tilts her head a little as if forming her reply carefully before setting it free.

 

 

   “I behaved badly last night, and I feel that you should know that while I stand by my promises, the general tone was dictated by how worried I’d been all day about Loki coming home,” she lays out, and Steve leans against the counter and watches her.

 

 

   “I see.”

 

 

   “I’m not sure that you do, because you aren’t privy to all the details, which is why I think I should explain,” Sigyn responds, looking as though she’s gathering herself to part with something she’s not sure she really wants to divulge.

 

 

   “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t feel able to,” Steve informs her, as gently as he can without worrying that she might hear condescension instead, but she shakes her head and smiles and says,

 

 

   “Secrecy becomes habit. It can be hard to break. No, I think I can tell you. You’re not really interested in me or my business, you’re here for Loki, and I think it’s clear enough that Loki would be upset if I was arrested. You may have noticed that some of what we get up to isn’t what most people would consider strictly legal.”

 

 

   Steve nods and sips his coffee and she seems to take this as a sign to continue.

 

 

   “Well, what I do – I’m not in Loki’s league at all, by any stretch, he’s completely unique – but what _I_ do is find ways into caches of information hidden in various systems, and exploit, change, remove or just monitor it. For example, I accessed the files on Loki that S.H.I.E.L.D had pulled to give to you, and I made minor alterations after they’d been reviewed and signed off on, but just _before_ they were moved onto the tablet you were given. That way, no one noticed the changes, and I arranged it so that the original files remained as they were. The only copy of my words is the one you have.”

 

 

   Steve has to admit that at least to him, that still sounds quite impressive. He doesn’t think an organisation like S.H.I.E.L.D designs its systems with handy welcome mats laid out for outsiders trying to get in and snoop around.

 

 

   “The monitoring part I use to track certain information – I knew Loki was coming home because he told me himself, but I also intercepted a few things going through the S.H.I.E.L.D systems that gave it away. A requisitioning order for the aircraft they were going to use to pick him up, for example; just a basic note that they’d be taking it out and how much fuel they’d need for the trip, but easy enough to link to Loki if you know where the Institute is and how long it takes to get there and back to the nearest base they have to here, and what day they plan to move him.”

 

 

   “Sounds like it’s a lot harder than you’re letting on,” Steve remarks, and the dimple in her cheek returns in what Steve recognises as an expression of sincere pleasure at being complimented on her work.

 

 

   “It’s not _easy_ ,” she admits,

 

 

   “But it helps when you have bits of the puzzle already, then you can connect the dots, so to speak.”

 

 

   “Not everyone’s capable of finding patterns like that,” Steve replies, and she nods, a grim twist to her mouth.

 

 

   “That’s true. But we do exist, and some of us apparently work for the people who want to get to Loki. S.H.I.E.L.D is overhauling their systems now that they know there was a bug tracking all information related to him, but they should have caught it sooner. _I_ can’t fortify their system’s defences from the outside, it’d take too long and they’d realise someone was doing something – believe me, I’ve tried – and there’s a limit to how much I can do at any one time without leaving permanent traces or stepping on someone’s toes and alerting them. I should have caught that bug, but I didn’t. I’m still not happy about that, and we’re going to try and find a way to filter things from now on, but this tracking was so crudely put together it’s like they weren’t even _trying_. I’m not completely sure that someone didn’t open the door for them, because otherwise I don’t see how they could have done it.”

 

 

   “Opened the door?”

 

 

   “Tricked someone into accepting a file carrying the bug. Either that or someone introduced it on purpose from the inside. It got in somehow and it wasn’t sophisticated enough in itself to breach the outer defences, so those are my two theories,” Sigyn explains, and Steve frowns.

 

 

   “That’s worrying.”

 

 

   “If all you have to choose between is incompetence or double-dealing, I’m not sure which is the lesser evil of the two,” Sigyn agrees.

 

 

   “Incompetence can be remedied or circumvented. Double-dealing is a lot harder to expose and eradicate,” Steve informs her.

 

 

   “I suppose,” Sigyn allows,

 

 

   “Anyway, I kept an eye on everything all day yesterday until you’d met Loki, then he contacted me and asked if I’d help monitor communications if he transferred them to me. I was listening in through the entire thing from the moment you and Loki stepped out of the building. I got to experience all of it through the point of view of everyone who was involved and had a live comm. at the time. It was...”

 

 

   She looks a little lost for words for a moment, and Steve offers the suggestion of,

 

 

   “Intense?” when he realises that it’s the same sort of belated shock and bewilderment he’s seen in the eyes of soldiers being briefed after their first real engagement. It makes sense for Sigyn to have experienced a similar sensation given that she was essentially plunged into the thick of the episode only without any visuals to help her understand what was going on.

 

 

   “Yes,” she replies, nodding,

 

 

   “It was very intense. There was a lot of yelling and jargon and I don’t think I breathed again until someone said ‘all clear’ and people started confirming that everyone was okay and Loki let me hang on until he turned on his own device and I could hear him speak to you.”

 

 

   His own..? The mp3 player, of course. He was running everything through that. That’s why he was so concerned with keeping it close to him. _The sly little bastard_.

 

 

   “So Loki patched you through on his system while he wasn’t in a position to listen in himself, and then took back control once he was secured again,” Steve sums up, and Sigyn nods, looking vaguely impressed.

 

 

   “Yes,” she confirms,

 

 

   “Exactly. But it wasn’t a lot of fun for me. I could have done without hearing gunshots and people going nuts and shouting all kinds of things I couldn’t follow anyway. I was really scared for him. I didn’t know exactly what the hell had happened until people started handing in official reports and briefs and I had to wait over an hour before the first of those started ticking in. It’s only because there were four different factions present at the scene who all logged different kinds of report that I ended up with a semi-clear picture of what went down, and even then I still didn’t know precisely what occurred.”

 

 

   “Do you know now?” Steve asks, and she shrugs.

 

 

   “Loki filled in some of the blanks. I know you were quick to act, and if I’d been a little calmer last night I would have thanked you properly for saving him. I wasn’t really listening in while the two of you were driving back here, but I did help Loki punch holes in the communicators you were linked up to so he could use them to keep track of things once the two of you were underway. He didn’t have time to do anything like that himself, so he asked me to throw the switch and cross the wires to make it happen since obviously he couldn’t. All I did was follow instructions from here – his system did the rest, I just had to pave the way.”

 

 

   “How did he instruct you?” Steve asks, mostly out of curiosity, and Sigyn smiles.

 

 

   “Saved messages. All he had to do was choose the appropriate one and send it off to me, and I could choose the corresponding action we’d agreed on. Once he had the helmet on, it was easier. I could pick and choose which messages went through and block his so that if he spoke and didn’t want you or them to hear, I was the only one he was talking to. We’d agreed on that earlier as well – he knew roughly what sort of procedures they’d be following and what to expect so we just planned accordingly.”

 

 

   Steve is honestly stunned.

 

 

   He knows that Loki is a genius, but this level of planning – of coordination and cooperation – it’s just incredible. The tactics employed, the way every eventuality has been carefully integrated into the overall plan and every fragment of information has been utilised or withheld in the most useful way possible...

 

 

   Steve has to marvel at the way it was all executed. No _wonder_ Loki was run ragged by the time they got back.

 

 

   “Sigyn..?”

 

 

   They both straighten and turn towards the source of the questioning voice to see Loki himself, hair now loosely curled and framing the wonderful, pale features flatteringly, stood near the entrance to the kitchen.

 

 

   It’s barely 7:00, Steve knows this, so it makes no sense to him that Loki should be standing there, awake and aware, since he had understood that Loki was likely to sleep for at least another four hours, but for a few strange moments, that all becomes secondary to how transfixed Steve is by the odd translucency of Loki’s skin, made somehow more captivating by the amount of it now on display, and how organic and tactile it seems against the backdrop of shining white walls and glossy black floors.

 

 

   Loki’s limbs are very slender and beautifully proportioned, everything elongated and elegant, and even his elbows don’t seem bony or awkward but merely part of a gracile whole. His height doesn’t interfere with this impression of shapeliness either, because his posture shows no indication of that affliction of the very tall – the habit of stooping or hunching or even slouching to appear less imposing.

 

 

   He’s wearing a black t-shirt about two sizes too large judging by the way it slips off one shoulder slightly and exposes his clavicle, but it’s worn so thin and soft that it drapes itself around him like it was made to do so. Steve can’t even begin to make out what the spiky, thinly-inked white logo on the front is, but he can identify that Loki’s pyjama bottoms are covered with little Moomins running rampant across a field of bright green.

 

 

   They pool on the tiles around his bare feet, and Steve notes that these extremities themselves are pristine and match the rest of Loki perfectly, including the slightly-shaking hand he raises to push his hair out of his face.

 

 

   Sigyn appears to maintain full control of her faculties in the face of this sight in a way that Steve cannot honestly say that he does himself, and she abandons her coffee to go and fold Loki into her arms tenderly, speaking to him in tones so hushed Steve can’t tell what she’s saying.

 

 

   When she pulls away and fussily straightens Loki’s t-shirt, Steve can hear her ask,

 

 

   “Do you want to come and have coffee with us?”

 

 

   “No,” Loki mumbles,

 

 

   “Just... will you come and tell me when you leave?”

 

 

   “Of course, sweetie. Go back to bed,” Sigyn murmurs soothingly, and Loki takes and presses her hand again briefly before leaving the room, presumably to go back upstairs.

 

 

   The back of his t-shirt, Steve sees before Loki slips from view, features what may well be the finely-detailed skull of a goat of some kind, as well as something that could be lists of tour dates. Coupled with the frolicking Moomins, it’s an interesting contradiction.

 

 

   Returning to her coffee, Sigyn smiles tiredly at Steve and says,

 

 

   “Sorry about that – he doesn’t like it when I’m just gone by the time he wakes up so sometimes he actually sets an alarm.”

 

 

   “Abandonment issues?” Steve asks, and Sigyn nods, burying her face in her coffee cup for a moment before resurfacing and replying,

 

 

   “You have no idea. Poor baby’s all but convinced that everyone in his life is just waiting for the moment where it’ll hurt the most to leave him in the lurch. I strongly suspect that he keeps tabs on my whereabouts for up to twenty-four hours until I arrive just to make sure I’m actually on my way. It’s not his fault, though. Do you know his adoptive parents used to leave him alone in the house for full days when he was little while they took the others out? And later on whenever Thor was playing something out of state, the whole family would up and just leave, sometimes for up to three days, and Loki would have to stay behind. The mother’s excuse was that Loki could do with some time to himself, but I know that bitch knew deep down that what she was doing was wrong. Personally I still think Loki would have been justified in just burning the place down and checking himself in at the nearest police station to be taken away from those awful people, but there’s no accounting for the guilt and misplaced sense of loyalty the people you think are your family can instil in you.”

 

 

   She takes another sip of her coffee and then adds,

 

 

   “It wasn’t until Loki found out that he was adopted that he realised he didn’t owe them shit and didn’t have to feel guilty for wanting to escape. He got out as soon as he could after that.”

 

 

   “Did you know him then?” Steve asks, and Sigyn smiles.

 

 

   “Barely. We were dancing circles around each other online. He knew who I was and I knew who he was, but we hadn’t met in person and we used to leave each other little messages on the boards, set each other little puzzles. ‘ _See if you can figure out where I was last night_ ’, that kind of thing,” she says with a little laugh, and Steve is compelled to ask,

 

 

   “You still mean... online?”

 

 

   “Yes. Loki was pretty far ahead of me, with much more sophisticated techniques, but I guess he recognised some talent for it in me and we ended up friends. The first thing he ever did was write to me with my address and social security number and a little note about how we were in similar situations and maybe we could talk. It took me two days to find him even though he’d left plenty of clues, and from then I knew he was my age and going through some of the same things, and we had enough in common that we really hit it off.”

 

 

   “Similar situations?” Steve risks, and Sigyn nods, fingers circling her coffee cup as her smile fades.

 

 

   “My family weren’t great people. I was fiddling finances, keeping my father’s business under wraps, and helping him collect insurance that he wasn’t entitled to at ten. Originally I got into the computer stuff because it was challenging and interesting, and a little because I just wanted to see if I _could_ , you know? A little girl, messing with the adult world, spying on all their bullshit, holding the cards for once. Then my parents found out and realised I was a goldmine waiting to be exploited, and after a while...”

 

 

   She swallows and hunches in on herself a little and then goes on.

 

 

   “My mother’s drinking escalated, and my father got more violent, and I think at that point I was just doing it to keep the family together and it didn’t really occur to me that I was being _used_ until I was about fourteen. It’s amazing what parents can make their kids feel obligated to do and think. Loki found the social services reports on my father, and another about this one time the neighbours called the police because he and my mother were... _arguing_. Loki noticed discrepancies. I think he was just screwing around on their database – maybe doing some alterations of his own – and he caught wind of what I’d done and tracked me down and...”

 

 

   She smiles again, shrugs, looks up at Steve.

 

 

   “Loki helped me through a really bad time. He helped me get better at what I do, helped me develop my skills. He even offered to get me into the Institute, but I refused and we talked it out, agreed that it’s not my kind of thing. I’m a lot more aggressively subversive than Loki by nature. He’s more of a trickster – he does things for fun, because he can or wants to see if he can. He creates and builds and plays and interferes when others are doing a bad job on a good idea. We’re both damaged, but I guess I’m damaged in a different kind of way.”

 

 

   This makes sense to Steve. Loki’s energy is very different to Sigyn’s – far more controlled, far more based in personal values. Loki has taken what’s been done to him and turned it inward, found ways to feel in control or to actually be in control of others and the situations he finds himself in, relying on his intellect and taking pains to see that he doesn’t project whatever he’s struggling with personally onto others. He’s private and secretive and unwilling to share what he’s really going through with anyone because he knows others can’t be trusted. Still, even with people who really don’t like him, Loki makes an effort to be courteous, to not take the easy road. If he wanted, Steve is sure that Loki could strut about being horrendously superior to everyone without ever really having to be held accountable for his behaviour.

 

 

   No, Loki strikes Steve as someone who has seen the worst in people and vowed not to repeat that pattern of abuse in his dealings with others, to hold back unless he really has to bring it. Sigyn on the other hand is openly proud and defiant, rigid and angry and willing to turn that on anyone who stands in her way at the slightest provocation. Sigyn is someone who has had control taken from her and now strives to make sure that everyone knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’ll do whatever it takes to stop that happening again in her lifetime.

 

 

   Steve doesn’t doubt that given the right situation, or if the right amount and variation of pressure was applied, Loki would snap and try to start the Apocalypse – and given his talents he would likely have a frightening degree of success – but it’s further below the surface with Loki because he’s buried it well, potentially because having grown up with family members who gave in to anger and imprudence too regularly to the detriment of a young Loki, he knows the value of ruling one’s emotions and reining them in when it counts.

 

 

   Sigyn on the other hand comes off a lot like the kind of guy Steve wishes he never had to encounter in the field but sometimes does – the hair-trigger kind who’s five minutes from hefting the nearest weapon and turning it on the closest target with zero regard for protocol or consequences and on the basis of only the flimsiest excuse.

 

 

   Steve will admit that he’ll be surprised if it turns out that Sigyn has not in fact utterly ruined her family’s lives after leaving them to go and do her own thing. Either that, or straight-up murdered them for their sins.

 

 

   “So Loki’s motivation is different,” he supplies, and Sigyn nods.

 

 

   “Loki wants to improve certain things, prove that he’s as clever as he knows he is. Loki can work within the system if he needs to or can see a reason to, but his reasons are always his own, and if the system isn’t working for him, he’ll jump ship or alter it until he’s in control. I don’t have the finesse or patience for that, and I get too frustrated with authority to really pretend to work with it, which is where Loki excels. He loved the Institute when he was younger – they pay for anything he asks for, give him whatever he needs, all he has to do is complete a few simple tasks for them and they fall in love with him all over again. It was the only time and place he ever had where his talents and needs were recognised and catered to, and of course Loki saw that so he took whatever he could from it,” she says, and Steve absorbs this.

 

 

   “His brothers – their statements said that Loki was ‘ _worse_ ’ when he got home from the Institute, that it wasn’t a good place for him to be. If it’s the only time Loki was actually happy, why would they say that?” he inquires, and Sigyn raises an eyebrow.

 

 

   “You think they realised that it was doing Loki a world of good to get away from them all and go somewhere he could be himself openly – somewhere he could really use his gifts, where they were recognised and _he_ was recognised as being special and worthwhile because of them?” she asks wryly, and it hits Steve like a ton of bricks.

 

 

   Not being at home with his abusive family – being somewhere he was appreciated and valued – would have been essential to Loki, to keep him sane.

 

 

   “Loki was worse _off_ whenever he came home because the family didn’t function without him to be their own resident scapegoat. Thor was unhealthily attached to Loki’s presence in the home because without Loki, Thor had a lot more responsibility to contend with and no one to blame when things went south. No voice of reason, no conscience whispering in his ear telling him what an idiot he was being. So when Loki wasn’t home, shit would get real for Thor in ways he could avoid if Loki were there. Of course, he couldn’t express that, and he couldn’t very well open up about how they used Loki like some kind of stress-reliever when they were dealing with their own issues, so he had to fall back on his old excuse of loving his little brother and not wanting to be without him,” Sigyn breaks down.

 

 

   “But Thor said he didn’t want to see Loki ‘ _like that_ ’ and that he shouldn’t be allowed to go to the Institute at all,” Steve points out,

 

 

   “What’d he mean by that?”

 

 

   “When Loki came home, he’d be all fired up and enthusiastic about what he’d learned and what he was doing and all the great things he’d done and seen. He’d be different. He’d want to be heard and seen and to share what he could do with them, and it’d take him a few days to readjust to being at home where being heard and seen was not a good thing. Enthusiasm over new experiences is a hard thing to beat out of a kid, especially one like Loki who thrives on those things and just wants others to take part in the amazing stuff he’s doing. Thor didn’t like attention-seeking Loki, and I think to some extent he also wasn’t enough of an idiot not to see that seeking attention wasn’t the best thing for Loki to do.”

 

 

   Sigyn shrugs and then adds rather wearily,

 

 

   “Thor does love Loki, he just never had the guts to defy his father and treat Loki like a human being in case that meant the shit ended up sticking to him as well. In a way, even though he’s done some unforgiveable things to Loki off his own bat, Thor is what his father made him, and even when they were younger a part of him was always torn between wanting to keep Loki close where he could be useful and Thor could watch over him, and not wanting Loki to suffer. Some kind of weird ‘ _if he’s going to be hurt and used, we should be the ones to do it and I should be there to keep an eye on it_ ’ mentality. Thor never understood Loki. To him, Loki might as well be another species. Thor’s never been able to grasp that Loki’s got thoughts and feelings because Thor’s are so different to Loki’s and Thor never got that Loki’s _could_ be different because Loki was his little brother and had to be just like Thor or else.”

 

 

   “Right. And Balder?” Steve prompts, and Sigyn sighs.

 

 

   “Balder was always good at everything and popular with everyone, so he had it easy. He’s actually not an idiot though, and he always knew what was going on with Loki, but he was too young to do anything about it so he blocked it out. He loves Loki and he never got over the fact that Loki turned out not to be his biological brother – to this day he won’t talk about it, and I know he’s been in therapy since he was seventeen – and I think it’s probably done some really weird things to him that he couldn’t step in to keep Loki safe when they were kids. No one in that family ever took him seriously – like he was too pretty to have a clue – so instead he’d keep Hǫðr out of the way as much as possible and just tune out whenever things got bad. When he was interviewed, he couldn’t talk about the abuse, but I’ve spoken to him and he says he always hated it when Loki came home because part of him felt like Loki should have just stayed gone and he always felt like an awful human being for thinking that at all.”

 

 

   _The guilt of those who survive untouched_ , Steve thinks. It’s far from a foreign concept to him.

 

 

   “He didn’t like the Institute because even though Loki was happier there, it was just another place where he was being used, even if he _was_ choosing it and it wasn’t harming him. I think Balder always thought Loki should be with a real family, even if it wasn’t his own family, you know? Somewhere with parents and siblings where he was loved and safe. He just never had a way to express that without feeling guilty and disloyal.”

 

 

   She takes a minute to finish her coffee and then rises and approaches Steve’s side of the counter to refill her cup halfway. Once she’s done, she retreats to the other side again, and leans in over the cup, bathing her face in the steam rising from it.

 

 

   “Hǫðr was helpless in all that. But of the three of them, he was the one who supported Loki and understood him best. He still is. I think if Loki had never existed, they would have taken it out on him. Their mother was always disappointed in Hǫðr – she worked hard not to show it, but she was. After Thor and Balder, having him probably seemed unfair. This perfect baby boy who’s just like the others until he opens his eyes and can’t see five inches in front of his face. Sometimes I wonder whether she got Loki so she could end on a high note – a healthy kid with no obvious issues. Or maybe they just knew they were fucking insane and unfit to raise children at all and got one who wasn’t theirs so they at least wouldn’t be abusing their own flesh and blood,” Sigyn says bitterly, without raising her face, and her words prompt more steam to roil off the surface of the coffee and make her seem like some vengeful dragon crouched on her hoard.

 

 

   “Do you believe that?” Steve asks, and she raises her face and makes a vague gesture.

 

 

   “Maybe. I don’t understand what they wanted him for. I don’t understand why they couldn’t love him. He was perfect. Even now, he’s still perfect. And he deserved better. It just makes me angry,” she replies shortly, reaching for her phone and checking something on it.

 

 

   “I should be going,” she says, half to herself, and Steve watches her pocket the phone and pat her hair – for a moment so incredibly feminine in her movements and the way she’s taking stock of herself before she feels ready to leave that Steve can see past the ugly childhood issues and character flaws and find the lonely young woman at the heart of it all, trying to find her way around herself. It’s humanising and oddly heartbreaking, and Steve wonders how many people Sigyn allows herself to love and how fierce and devastating the emotion must be to her.

 

 

   “I’ll just go and check on him,” she adds, leaving to do just that, and Steve wonders whether perhaps in some way she has ‘adopted’ Loki to love and cherish when no one else did, someone to pour all of those things into, who needed it the way she needed to give it but couldn’t allow herself to with anyone who didn’t know why it was all so difficult for her.

 

 

   She’s flawed and angry and could probably do with some intensive therapy herself, but yesterday she experienced the attempt on her best – perhaps only – friend’s life second hand, through the voices of others, heard shots ring out without knowing until several minutes later that they had not found Loki, had to wait hours to be able to form a complete picture of what actually went down, and waited for Loki to tell her how to help implement the plan they concocted together while she waited here for him to return so she could see for herself that he was safe and well.

 

 

   Steve’s not so sure he blames her for her aggression and distrust, or for the way she made it clear last night that her only loyalty is to her friendship with Loki.

 

 

   It doesn’t change the fact that she’s dangerous, or how incredibly abrasive and rude she was last night, but Steve thinks he gets it, just a little. It’s hard to hate her knowing that once upon a time she was just a little girl trying to survive an abusive home environment by engaging her mind and that this skill was warped and exploited by her own parents demanding she utilise it for their illegal benefit and to cover up how they were treating their daughter.

 

 

   Steve is pretty far gone in feeling disgusted with the world and all the neglectful, abusive monsters in it who harm their own offspring and cause them to grow up twisted and poisonous and hateful when Sigyn re-enters the kitchen, now with a large black leather bag – something in the back of Steve’s mind whispers the word ‘tote’ – over her shoulder, and she picks up her abandoned coffee cup and drains the contents, setting it back down and nodding at Steve.

 

 

   “I’ll be off, then. Do you want me to check in with your friend, make sure everything’s okay?” she asks, and Steve blinks.

 

 

   “What?”

 

 

   “Your friend,” Sigyn repeats,

 

 

   “I know you’ve been checking in, but since you have to go where Loki goes, I thought you might not be able to for the foreseeable future and I’m offering to do it for you. I can send you updates, if you want.”

 

 

   Steve just keeps staring at her. The idea of it...

 

 

   “Look, it’s just a gesture of good will. I’ll be around there anyway, I just thought you might like someone to drop by occasionally,” Sigyn says, a note of belligerence entering her voice, and Steve shakes his head and quickly says,

 

 

   “No, no – thanks for offering, but it’s okay. Honestly. It’s nice of you, but my mom visits every week and lets me know how we’re doing. Thank you.”

 

 

   Sigyn’s shrug is a little stiff and her tone is slightly wounded when she responds,

 

 

   “Fine. Just asking,” but she doesn’t sound offended or angry, which Steve counts as a huge plus. It helps if he keeps telling himself that she’s just as badly socialised as Loki was, if in a slightly different way, and it certainly doesn’t appear as though any of this was a veiled threat. Steve’s pretty sure that when she threatens people she likes there to be absolute clarity on all fronts that that’s what she’s doing. This rather seems like it is what she says it is – a gesture of good will.

 

 

   “No, really, it’s kind of you, but you don’t have to do that,” Steve insists, and her expression softens slightly.

 

 

   “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. You two take care, alright?” she says, hand drifting to her pocket where the outline of her phone is just visible, and Steve nods, smiling.

 

 

   “We will,” he assures her.

 

 

   He follows her as far as the steel door, but when she opens it and steps through, he can’t help himself any longer.

 

 

   “How did you escape?” he asks, and she turns, eyes wide and sad and shocked, until guilt and anger flood them and they close.

 

 

   “I ran away,” she says softly, brokenly, and then, in a heavier, more resigned tone,

 

 

   “I just ran away.”

 

 

   Steve isn’t as surprised as he thought he’d be, and he doesn’t even think she’s lying, but none of that tinges his voice when he firmly tells her,

 

 

   “That was really brave.”

 

 

   Her eyes are glassy with tears when she opens them again, but she just looks tired when she asks,

 

 

   “Was it?”

 

 

   “Sure it was. Strategic retreat. And I’ll bet you took everything of value in the place with you when you removed yourself from the hostile environment,” Steve says, half a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth, and her posture relaxes somehow, becomes less closed.

 

 

   “I’m glad you’re here,” is all she says, but there’s a new buoyancy to her voice now, as though she’s pulling herself out of something into a better, more resolved position.

 

 

   “Glad to be here. Be careful out there,” Steve cautions, and she nods.

 

 

   “I always am,” she confirms, turning and walking away up the slope. Steve doesn’t close the door until he hears her leave and the exit shut behind her.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exploitation =  
> 1\. Taking full advantage of success in military operations, following up initial gains, and making permanent the temporary effects already achieved.
> 
> 2\. Taking full advantage of any information that has come to hand for tactical, operational, or strategic purposes.
> 
> 3\. An offensive operation that usually follows a successful attack and is designed to disorganize the enemy in depth. See also attack.


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